


Pleasant Dreams and Heinous Crimes

by Vulvadon



Series: Souls Laid Bare [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Asphyxiation, BDSM, Barebacking, Beach Sex, Biting, Brooding, Cliffhangers, Come as Lube, Coming Out, Complicated Relationships, Crime Fighting, Crispy Love, Cuddles, Deeply psychological, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Domination/submission, Drama Llama, Dream Sex, Dreams, Drinking, Drug Withdrawal, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Fluff, Feels, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description of Corpses, Heavy Angst, Humor, Implied subspace, Kidnapping, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Devil Reveal, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Wing Reveal, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Multi, Murder Mystery, Mutual Masturbation, Mystery, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Psychological, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, S&M, Sadism, Self-Hatred, Sex, Sex on a Car, Sexuality Crisis, Shower Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, Smoking, Smut, Soup, Spiritual, Spiritual S&M, Spiritual sex, Sub Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Supernatural Elements, Tacos, Therapy, Tickling, Tribe Night (Lucifer TV), Vaginal Fingering, Weird crime scenes, Whump, Wing Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 151,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulvadon/pseuds/Vulvadon
Summary: Picks up about a month after where Season 4 left off.After the massacre at the Mayan, Lucifer disappeared. A month has passed since then but despite having been convinced that things would finally go back to normal, nothing feels right to Dan. He doesn't want to believe that the club owner has really skipped town. And while struggling with his own inner demons, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to find Lucifer and get some closure. What starts as a desperate and angered attempt at getting even rapidly turns into something Dan never saw coming.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Dan Espinoza, Chloe Decker/Dan Espinoza, Dan Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Souls Laid Bare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945561
Comments: 546
Kudos: 390





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done anything quite like this before. This is almost exclusively written in present-tense, and unlike other fanfiction I've written in the past, I'm keeping these characters rooted in their original universe and not one of my own making. Challenge is good!
> 
> Not every chapter contains the tags mentioned. It ranges from General to Explicit as the story moves along--I just wanted to make it clear up front that there's gonna be graphic sex (gasp!) and graphic descriptions of crime scenes throughout (it is a crime show, after all), so you have been made aware! I'll add more tags as the story is developed.
> 
> I have no clue how long this will be, but it's definitely not gonna be short, I can promise you that! I intend to update regularly, hopefully once a week, around Saturday/Sunday.
> 
> I haven't written anything in two years. Also, this is my first time in well over a decade since I've posted my writing to a public archive. Exciting and nerve-racking! Comments are greatly appreciated. I really hope you all find this interesting.

The _Massacre at the Mayan_ , as the media had named it, was about as upsetting as it had been easy to wrap up in a nice, big LAPD swept-under-the-rug bow. Over three dozen families would have to be notified, give statements, and get sent home with nothing more than a standard condolences package of canned apologies, thoughts and prayers.

Except for Chloe Decker.

Her apologies would be sincere, partly because she knew the whole truth, and partly because it pained her to have to hide it to maintain order and keep her own sanity in check.

Blessedly—or not—Chloe had been able to give the unis a complete rundown only minutes after Lucifer, Amenadiel and Maze had left the Mayan. She told them all she had it covered, and that she would catch up with Lucifer at the penthouse as soon as she could.

The official story?

Father Kinley had been obsessed with a prophecy that involved the Devil (true). His obsession eventually made him go insane (true). He developed a cult following and acquired close to fifty followers (half-true, but Chloe wasn’t about to explain that his body had been possessed by an actual demon so he could create those followers). He needed a sacrifice (true). The night nurse that kidnapped Linda Martin’s baby, Charlie, had been one of his followers (true—technically).

The lies, strangely, came so much easier.

Chloe was able to rescue the child all on her own (lie). She had a window of opportunity where the baby was left unattended and she snuck out the back (lie). But not before witnessing Kinley standing alone over his dead followers, praising his own efforts to convince them to murder each other in service to him (lie). Kinley must have killed himself after Chloe left (total lie).

None of this would have been made so easy without a few very fortunate facts. The connection between the followers was solid: all of them attended the same church (except for Holla Bae, who was presumed celebrity bait for Kinley to be able to entice followers to join his cult—his ‘fake’ public death a secret rallying cry to set the wheels in motion for Kinley’s plan). And, the murder weapon, which was the same for every victim, save for three people who had been brutalized by a different blade, as yet unrecovered, but would probably turn up somewhere—maybe in one of the vic’s pockets or at the church.

Even Ella had shrugged off concern over the mystery blade. She was more concerned about the time of death for every vic. Most of them were several minutes to hours apart, to which Chloe reiterated her claim that Kinely had been the last one alive, which was why it had been easier for her to steal the baby from him. She may have come across a little frantic when she said that, but Ella just comforted her with a hug that Chloe hadn’t realized she needed.

Chloe gave the address to the church where everyone had been ‘recruited.’ She didn’t have to be there; she could go home. On the way to Lux, Dan called her with an update. Holla Bae’s prints were all over the place, cementing his connection, along with traces of blood from several of the vics, found everywhere from the pews to the confession booths. The current theory was that some of the followers were killed and brought to the Mayan afterwards, in order to fulfill some sort of ceremony. It was bizarre and confusing, but not impossible.

Dan had asked if she was alright. She said she was ok, but asked if he could take Trixie in the morning. It had been a long night, and she knew she was going to be wrecked by the next day. Dan agreed right away. Then he paused, the lilt of a question hanging in his silence. She didn’t say much else. He wisely didn’t pry further.

And then Lucifer left Earth, and it didn’t take long for life to get back to normal in the City of Angels.

…or so it seemed.

~*~

Linda is on maternity leave. Amenadiel and Maze don’t leave her side (unless she growls at them to give her some space from time to time).

Ella starts praying again. She doesn’t go back to church. She isn’t ready, and after the massacre, churches just don’t feel quite as safe as they used to.

Chloe devotes herself to her job much in the way Dan had done during the final years of their marriage. Right after the massacre, Dan noticed she was different. She was distracted and distant.

It grows worse in the following weeks, but he doesn’t know how to approach it, since she keeps herself so busy all the time. Now he knows how she must have felt all those years, and the revelation is not so much enlightening as it is devastating.

Dan…

Dan struggles. _A lot_. He hasn’t told anyone yet, but even after only one session (half a session, really), he wishes he could continue therapy. It was hard enough to convince himself to do it in the first place. He knows Linda (sort of), so he wasn’t as uncomfortable as he could have been, say, with a total stranger. But now that she’s out of commission for a while, and he can’t get over the fucking hang-up of starting over, again, with someone else, who he doesn’t know, and is not even sure he’d like, Dan resigns himself to bottling it all back up.

It’s familiar territory. But ever since Maze called him out on wanting to punish himself, and Ella recognized that he was in pain, bottling it up doesn’t hold the same weight that it used to.

Chloe has been emotionally M.I.A. towards him since the Mayan.

Trixie is his ray of sunshine, his brightest hope, his one sure thing he can count on to keep him from utterly destroying himself. But even she’s starting to show signs of maturity that Dan would have hoped not appear until much later. She’s the kid of two cops, after all, and her Spidey senses are working overtime at recognizing discontent within her family. She knows that both her parents aren’t happy right now. She’s trying to believe that it’s not because of something she did. She’s jumping hoops working to be strong for both of them and Dan knows it’s fucking unfair to her. But neither he nor Chloe can get their shit together enough to give her a break. He’s pretty sure he knows why.

Lucifer…

Lucifer’s gone. Again. Only this time, from what little he got out of Chloe, it sounds like it’s supposed to be for real, for _good_. Not like Vegas that one—ok, two—times. ‘ _He had to go take care of family business_ ,’ she said. ‘ _It’ll probably be permanent_ ,’ she insisted, bobbing her head in that trying-desperately-to-convince-herself-while-trying-to-convince-you way.

Dan doesn’t want to accept it.

Despite the precinct being asshole-free for about a month now, despite having been convinced that things would finally go back to normal once that grandiose son of a bitch was out of the picture, nothing feels right.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but the precinct seems…less lively without Lucifer around. Even when he wasn’t hovering over Chloe’s desk, or giving Dan every reason under the Sun to punch him in his goddamn perfect face, or tiptoeing like a fucking kid in a candy store around the evidence lockup, or messing with evidence in Ella’s lab, or doing God-knows-what to scare the shit out of a suspect, Lucifer’s presence had created some sort of vibe that had everyone generally a little happier, a little lighter on their feet.

Dan hates that. He hates it so much. It’s unfair that the bastard could get away with just about anything, even attempted murder (he knows Lucifer could have totally killed Tiernan’s son if he wanted to) and still brighten everyone’s mood. Deep down, Dan knows the reason it makes him so livid is that he’s gotten away with equally awful shit and yet no one treats _him_ like he’s a goddamn treasure. They treat him just the same as when he does nothing. Maybe a little worse, because he keeps to himself these days, and he’s put up a lot of walls over the last few years.

It’s Lucifer’s fault.

At least, that’s what Dan tells himself.

But now that Lucifer’s gone, it doesn’t feel as good or as easy as it used to, to think of him that way. Dan was just starting to acknowledge that he was spiraling because of Charlotte’s death, because he still hadn’t forgiven himself for putting his own daughter in danger, or for Malcolm Graham and the entire fiasco with the Palmetto case.

With all of that twisting his nerves into knots, he realizes that what he hates most about Lucifer is everything that he hates about himself: being an asshole, getting away with shit, not facing any consequences. It all turns in on itself and feeds on Dan’s insecurities; gnawing at him with steady, incessant precision.

He misses Charlotte so much. He knows it’s not actually Lucifer’s fault—he was right—no one would have believed him had he told them that Pierce was the Sinnerman, not at the time, anyway. Why didn’t Charlotte tell Dan she was investigating Pierce? It was right under his fucking nose for _weeks._ She probably did it to protect him. The sentiment is heartwarming; the blow to his ego is not.

Dan thinks about every time Lucifer called him ‘Detective Douche.’

He thinks about when he stopped calling him that. He remembers when it started back up, for a brief moment, when Eve was around. In a weird, convoluted way, Dan starts wondering if it was a term of endearment, similar to the way Lucifer virtually never called Chloe by her name, just ‘Detective.’ He noticed, apart from the brief relapse into ‘Douche’, how Lucifer often called him ‘Daniel.’ No one else called him that—even his parents.

He turns that over in his mind for about a week.

He thinks about every time Lucifer teased him. He wonders if he did it because he saw Dan as competition for Chloe. But after they finalized the divorce, Lucifer still did it. What was it Chloe had tried to tell him? That maybe it was Lucifer’s way of showing…what, exactly? That he cared? Was it like if kids picked on each other in grade school it meant that they liked one another? Lucifer _did_ have the propensity to act like a child most of the time. The man took _nothing_ seriously.

Lucifer Fucking Morningstar: the proverbial thorn in Dan’s side.

Then it dawns on him. Dan knows that what he’s looking for is a way out of his suffering. Punishment still sounds like a good idea. But more than that, he’s suddenly reminded of something that Lucifer had been ranting about not long ago—something about getting closure.

_That’s it._ That’s what Dan needs: closure. He needs to talk to Lucifer. He wants to see his face (his oh so punchable face), when he tells him that his behavior has been out of line for far too long and Dan’s through being treated like shit. He needs to make Lucifer understand how much it’s damaged him. It’s not something he can do over the phone or through angry hate mail. It has to be in person.

But, of course, Lucifer isn’t here. Chloe’s story sounded like total bullshit to Dan, but it must be somewhat true because he’s tried calling the fucker and it doesn’t even go to a voicemail. _‘The person you are trying to reach is no longer available.’_

He decides to ask around and gain some intel on Lucifer’s whereabouts—maybe he’ll track him down like a total weirdo and beat the shit out of him in an alleyway. He wouldn’t _really_ do that—it’s just wishful thinking. Really.

But it is why he’s been avoiding going to Lux directly. Dan would rather have an even playing field if they really did start fighting.

He wants to talk to Ella, but feels it’s unfair to her considering that she’d already done so much for him when he knows he doesn’t deserve it.

It’s Friday, and this is his free weekend, and he’s miraculously also not on call, so he decides to extend one more olive branch to Chloe when he drops Trixie off at her place. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t go great.

~*~

Chloe tells their daughter to go wash up before dinner. By the smell of it, its pizza, which… it would be fine except that Dan sees three other empty boxes by the recycling bin. He knows his ex-wife: she’s been working so hard that she probably has little time to actually cook these days. Or sleep.

She crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head at Dan. “Did you need something else before you head out?”

“Uh, yeah, actually, I did. I wanted to ask if you’d heard from Lucifer recently.” It takes all of his will power to keep his voice even and his eyes trained on hers; watching to see her reaction.

Her gaze flits to the left and then steadies back on him. She blinks slowly, shaking her head. “Um, no, why?” Before he responds, she prods, “I thought you were glad he left L.A.?”

Dan was ready for this part. “Oh, you bet your ass I’m glad. It’s just that—.” _Shit_. He _thought_ he was ready. He hesitates, and then says, “He and I have some unfinished business and I’m having trouble getting a hold of him.” There. That was the truth. Before she answers, he cuts in, “—Wait, if he’s gone then who’s running Lux?” Whoever runs it now might know more.

A strange look passes over Chloe’s face. Dan wonders if he sees something painful in there. The look vanishes when she speaks, her voice coming out a little too fast and cheerful. “Oh, gosh, I don’t—you know, I don’t know, Dan. I mean, it’s _Lucifer_ after all; knowing him he probably just packed a bag and left without thinking that far ahead. I mean, it’s not like he was _planning_ to leave, his—you know—his family stuff just came up unexpectedly, so I’m sure it’s like—I’m sure his bartenders keep it running just fine without him.”

She does a circular nod with her head, drawing in her lower lip under her teeth before glancing behind her at nothing and then back to Dan with big, doe eyes.

He nods, rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Ok. Ok, guess I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, yeah, Monday. See you then.”

He leans a little to her left, shouts, “Bye Monkey, love you!”

“By Daddy! Love you, too!” Trixie calls back, popping up from the couch with a wave. Shit. He thought she was in her room. When did she get there and how long was she listening to that awkward-as-hell exchange? Her smiling face gives nothing away. Chloe looks as stunned as he does.

The adults trade a few awkward waves and then Dan’s back in his car, letting out a long breath as though he’d been holding it under water. His chest hurts.

Dan considers what Chloe said about Lux. He remembers when Lucifer had a sit-in just to keep those contractors from tearing down the place a few years ago. He remembers how emphatic he was that Lux was his home. Sure, Lucifer had always been capricious and reckless, but that night club was his sanctuary (in fact, Dan’s pretty sure he’s heard him refer to it as exactly that on more than one occasion).

Even through all his bitter hatred towards the guy, Dan knows that Lucifer’s love for Lux isn’t an act; it really means something to him. There is no way that he would just leave it in the hands of bartenders.

_If_ —and that was a big _IF_ —Chloe wasn’t lying through her teeth like Dan’s gut told him she was, then maybe Lucifer had left the place with someone he trusted.

Dan retrieves his phone out of his jacket pocket.

~*~

**_Dan Espinoza (5:33pm):_** Hey man, sorry to bother you. Could I swing by? There’s something I was hoping I could talk to you about in person. Will only take a minute.

**_Amenadiel (5:37pm):_** Sure thing Dan. Linda and Charlie are both taking a nap right now, so text me when you arrive so as not to disturb them.

**_Dan Espinoza (5:38pm):_** Thanks, I owe you one! No problem. See you soon.

~*~

Once Dan enters Linda’s house, he’s welcomed with a warm embrace by Amenadiel and an upturned nod and kitten-fang smirk from Maze, who’s at the dining table, oiling her knives. Because of course she is.

Amenadiel directs him to the couch and they sit a few feet across from each other. The big man looks glad to see him but his brow furrows. “Dan. It’s good to see you. How are you doing?”

Dan is torn between telling him a sketchy version of the truth or cutting straight to the chase. He glances at Maze, who is fully absorbed in her task, but he knows she’s listening.

If there are any people left in this world that he still trusts, and still likes, Amenadiel and Maze are two of them. He and Maze have a weird history, but he knows she’s got his back in a fight, and that makes for a special sort of bond. Amenadiel has just never given a shred of reason to make Dan doubt his intentions. And he exudes a calming aura—even if Dan doesn’t usually think about people that way—that is always soothing to be around.

“You know what? Full disclosure: I’m not doing great. I’ve had a lot on my mind, like, _a lot—_ and it’s—I’m sorry, man, I don’t mean to come off all sappy on you or anything,” (there’s a not-so-subtle snort that comes from the dining table), “and I know this is really Linda’s territory, but I didn’t want to bother her while she was on leave and—.”

“—what’s going on, Dan?” Amenadiel asks in that inviting, deep baritone voice. He’s smiling, his teeth glinting brightly. Dan senses more than sees Maze pause from her project.

_Fuck it._

Dan straightens his back and clears his throat. His eyes dart around the room. He sighs and gives one more glance to Maze before looking back at Amenadiel. “Is Lucifer really gone? Like, for real this time?”

The silence that fills the room raises the tension in an instant. It’s like both Amenadiel and Maze stopped breathing for a second. Maybe they had. After an awkward pause, Amenadiel’s face scrunches curiously, looking towards the coffee table before returning his gaze back to Dan. “Is that what Chloe told you?”

Answering a question with a question is usually something people do when they have something to hide—especially a leading one like that. The circumstance of Lucifer’s absence is already suspect in Dan’s eyes, but now his gut is screaming at him that it just got even sketchier. It’s a cop thing.

He rolls with it, bouncing his shoulders. “Yeah, more or less. She said he had family business to take care of and that it would probably be on a permanent basis.”

Amenadiel’s brow rises. “Well she’s not wrong.”

Dan’s words pour out rapidly. “Ok, but if that’s the case, then what happened? I know it’s not really any of my business who Chloe gets involved with but I didn’t think they _were_ involved. Except, ever since the Mayan, she’s been acting like he left her at the altar or something. It’s affecting Trixie and it’s affecting me, and I need to talk to him before I end up doing something really stupid and I haven’t been able to get a hold of him—.”

“— _Dan_ ,” Maze cuts in, her voice firm but not loud enough to disrupt the sleeping occupants in the other room.

“Huh?” he looks bewildered by his own dizzying train of thought.

She looks at him with those smoky eyes; unimpressed but paying attention. “Why do you need to talk to him so bad? And don’t say it’s just because of Chloe, because then you would be lying.”

Dan and Maze have never hooked up. He’s thought about it, more in passing than anything else. It’s all thanks to her rockin’ bod and the fact that he’s got a thing for confident (bossy), women. But truthfully, the thought never grew into anything because it was swiftly usurped by the bizarre connection they developed. Maze is a friend. And he likes it that way. He’s pretty sure that’s how she likes it, too.

So, when she asks him something (and holds the unspoken threat of kicking his ass if he’s caught lying), he’s inclined to give it to her straight. Because that’s what she would do for him.

Still, he settles for a half-truth, because he’s a damn coward. “You know what? Fuck me for being the last to know he skipped town before I could give him a piece of my mind.”

Maze cocks one scarred eyebrow at him. “You want to beat him up?”

“You’re damn right I do.”

She folds her arms over her chest, her black leather top creaking. “You could have done that any time.” Maze shakes her head. “No. There’s more to it than that.”

Dan shrugs and gives her a smirk. “Does there have to be?” She clucks her tongue at him and nods. His look persists. “Oh, c’mon.”

Amenadiel frowns and slides a hand out towards Dan over the couch, but doesn’t touch him. “Dan, I know I’m not Linda, but on behalf of her expertise, may I say something?”

“Sure, man.”

Amenadiel speaks carefully. “I think what you’re doing right now is called deflecting.”

Dan grimaces and is about to protest when Maze chortles and both men’s gazes turn towards her.

She rolls her eyes. “All right, idiot, _look_.” She reaches across the table for a pen and a notepad, jots something down, folds it once between deft fingers and holds onto it while reaching into a duffle bag with her other hand. She retrieves a large key ring with at least three dozen sets of keys on it—all color-coded—and slips two off with a tinkling sound.

Maze gets up and clops with her boots over to the living area and holds out the paper and keys to Dan. He reaches for them but she raises her hand out of range. “If I find out about _anything_ involving you that could end up hurting Trixie or Chloe, and you’re not dead, you _will_ wish you were.” She looks upwards and shrugs. “And if you are dead, I can still work with that. There’s always someone looking to buy a body.”

Dan gives the barest of nods and reaches up a second time. She counts off each item. “Main entrance, back door, key code to the elevator. Knock yourself out,” and shoves it all into his palm.

She walks back to the dining table just as Amenadiel looks at her, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Maze, what could he _possibly_ gain from going there now?”

The bounty hunter shrugs, settling into her chair and arching one leg over the other to cross them. “I dunno. There’s still plenty of booze and he could fuck the place up if it makes him feel better.”

Dan looks down at the keys and the paper. He frowns. “Since when did the elevator get a key code?”

Maze’s voice softens the tiniest bit. “I closed Lux down two weeks after Lucifer left. Haven’t decided what I want to do with it yet, but I didn’t want anyone busting in and running off with anything so I changed the locks and closed off the penthouse.” She grins. “Still let the cleaning lady in, though; gotta take advantage of that bed every now and then.”

That garners a small smile from Dan as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You mean _awesome_ ,” she says smugly.

“Maybe.”

They exchange friendly looks and then Dan turns to Amenadiel. He suddenly feels embarrassed about the idea of going to Lucifer’s penthouse with the express purpose of getting trashed and breaking shit. Somehow, when he looks at the man across from him, it just feels rude to think about it.

He sighs. “Look, man, I know your family is…not very traditional,” (Amenadiel gives him a look), “or, maybe they’re _really_ traditional, I mean, your name, Lucifer’s—anyway, I just want to say that you know you can tell me anything, right? I’m not gonna judge. Believe me, I’m the last person who should. I have some shit I need to get off my chest—to Lucifer—and it would really be better to do it in person. So, if you can tell me how I can find him, or give me _something_ to go on, it would mean a hell of a lot to me.”

“Hell being the key word,” Maze chimes in.

Amenadiel glares at her. He places a hand on Dan’s shoulder and looks into his eyes. “Dan, nothing would make me happier than to tell you where my brother is. You’re my friend, and I value what we have. But, I don’t think it’s my place to share that information. I’m sorry. All I _can_ tell you is that where he is, he’s there to stay, so you don’t have to worry anymore about his presence in your life.”

Dan would have almost preferred Amenadiel lie to him at this point. Somehow, the truth—and his gut tells him that’s what it is—seems so much worse. He can’t accept it. He needs to come full circle and can’t do that when he can’t face the ugliness in himself, or the face of the man who he hates and has been secretly comparing himself to for the last four years.

It’s a joke with no punch line. It’s a TV show that gets cancelled at the cliffhanger. It’s a story that just…stops.

His fingers slowly curl around the objects in his hand and the tangible sensation soothes his rage a fraction. Maybe getting hammered and smashing shit _will_ help, even if it’s only a little. Dan suddenly doesn’t know what else to do now. He’s surprised. There was a small part of him that didn’t believe Lucifer had actually gone. Maybe that part is bigger than he thought.

He licks his lips and nods. “Thank you.”

Amenadiel squeezes his shoulder again. “Of course,” he says warmly.

Dan stands and gives the other man a fist bump. He walks up the stairs to the front entrance, catching sight of Maze flinging him a peace sign with her fingers without looking up from the table. He smiles anyway and waves back, then leaves.

Settling into his car, Dan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He stares at the keys for the upteenth time. Both are black, one with little red devil horns on it (the main entrance); the other with a little red devil tail (the back door). It pulls a smirk from him.

He turns on the ignition and slips into traffic with little resistance. The sun is beginning to set in his rear view mirror. He thinks it’ll look even better from six floors up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan goes to the penthouse and ends up crashing there. A familiar face graces him with his presence.

Dan pulls up to a black metal gate that seals off the parking garage situated under Lux. He has a moment where he’s not sure if the key to the gate is different from the ones he was given, but considers that Maze would have told him if that were the case. He tries the back door key and is rewarded.

After locking up behind him, he drives to a spot in the corner, parks near the elevator entrance, and takes a moment to stare out of his car window.

Lucifer’s Corvette is still here.

It’s got a covering on it, but Dan recognizes the general shape hiding beneath. There are four other cars here as well, all covered, and judging from the elegant, compact outlines, Dan’s willing to bet they all belong to Lucifer, too.

He ignores his surmounting concerns about this whole situation and makes his way to the elevator. He takes a look at the code; his brows creases. It’s six digits, and if he didn’t know better, it looks like a—Dan grins, recognizing the set of numbers for what it is. It’s the birthday of Charlie, Linda’s baby.

It’s not every day that a man seeks professional help and then turns around and helps that professional get to the hospital to deliver a baby. It’s definitely one of his finer moments amidst a long string of terrible ones.

He types in the code and heads up to the penthouse.

~*~

The place is obnoxiously opulent as usual, and gratefully there are no gunmen lying in wait or lying on the floor. He thinks about Trixie coming here to check on Lucifer, and how it was because of Dan’s misguided rage that he nearly lost her. He still hasn’t told Chloe it was his fault. He might never tell her, for fear that it would be the last straw, and he would never get to see Trixie again.

That’s why he needs to see Lucifer. If Dan can’t find a way to make peace with him, then his anger is just gonna get in the way again and ruin everything. He needs to work it out _somehow_ —whether that means airing grievances or physical violence. At this point, he would gladly welcome either or both.

Dan rocks back and forth on his heels, thinking about his next move. He’s starting to feel a little weird and restless just standing in someone else’s house without having a purpose. So he gives himself one, and decides to do some detective work.

He inspects the bar first (naturally) and sees all of the bottles are anywhere from half to completely full. He looks under the countertop. There are four— _fucking_ _four_ —mini fridges. Two are for wine; two are for mixers and cocktail ingredients, all four are well stocked.

To his right: the full-size fridge. It’s mostly empty, save for clear evidence that Maze wasn’t kidding when she said she still came here occasionally: a case of green tea coconut water rests on the bottom shelf. The freezer is filled with all kinds of frozen snacks and single serving meals—except most of them are by brands he’s never heard of and look so healthy that they have no right being categorized as microwavable. Interestingly, there’s a big box of cheap taquitos to one side which has a sticky note on the box that reads (in very ornate handwriting):

_Don’t even think about it_

_—LM_

Dan grins, then his brow furrows. He wouldn’t have pegged Lucifer as being a fan of cheap _anything_ , even though the asshole always went for his fucking pudding in the break room every chance he could. He assumed that Lucifer always did it to mess with him—and he still thinks that—but what if he had a soft spot for bad food just like anyone else?

The thought is more humbling than it should be, and Dan closes the freezer and resumes his investigation.

His eyes wander over expensive kitchenware—all black of course. Strangely, nothing looks unused, but somehow it all still looks sleek, like a kitchen in a TV show. There’s a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron hanging by the back of the fridge. He rifles through cupboards, finding some dry goods, a lot more booze (mostly whiskey), and dishware that probably cost more than what he makes in a week.

Dan decides to pour himself a drink. Hell, why not make it a double—it’s Friday—where’s he got to be later?

He scans the massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with volumes that are so hoity-toity-antique that he’s a little intimidated just by looking at them. He guesses, but he’s got a feeling that most, if not all of them, are in languages which he can’t understand. Call it a hunch.

He makes his way outside and catches the sunset before it’s gone. It’s a good day in Los Angeles; the last rays of daylight cut across the sky in such a way that the smog looks thinner than usual, more serene and less ugly. From up here, he can see the outskirts of his neighborhood. How he never realized he lived this close to Lux comes as more of a surprise than it should. Has he really been that absorbed in his loathing of Lucifer that he couldn’t or wouldn’t even acknowledge the proximity of the two locales?

Dan takes a hearty gulp and looks to his right. The hot tub is covered, but he can hear the mechanisms that keep it running even from where he’s standing. He could totally use it, and he knows it would feel amazing right now, but… No. That’s not why he’s here.

Why _is_ he here?

He finishes his drink, coughing a bit from the burn and walks back inside. He contemplates smashing the glass on the floor for all of three seconds before he feels guilty about it and instead refills the glass with a single shot.

Making his way up the short steps, Dan looks at the bedroom—and the bed. He recalls when Lucifer had claimed he’d been in a ‘dry spell’ when they brought over _ninety_ people into the precinct for questioning. You’d never even know _one_ person had been in the bed—it looked so pristine—and lonely.

He takes a sip and moves more quickly, feeling restless again. He inspects the closet, the dresser drawers, the sex toy closet ( _whoa_ ), and makes quick work of scanning the _insanely_ nice bathroom. The one place he hasn’t thoroughly inspected is the safe—but he doesn’t need to—he’s already come to a conclusion.

All of Lucifer’s suits seem to be perfectly untouched and there is a gap in the hanging rack, big enough to allow for just one suit to be absent. His luggage bags are here. His overnight bag is inside one of them. No toiletries appear out of place or missing.

If Lucifer really did leave L.A., he did it without taking a goddamn thing.

~*~

Dan’s had a fair amount of whiskey tonight. Somewhere after the third or fourth (maybe it’s the fifth?) refill, he gets the courage to dip his lower half in the hot tub. It feels great until he thinks about all the things that have probably happened here. This tub has _seen_ _some shit_. But, fuck it, it really doesn’t matter. None of it does. He continues to drink, and sings loudly to himself, because he knows no one can hear, and there is a comfort in that.

Later in the night, he finds the remote that controls the stereo. Whatever was playing last is playing now. It’s some kind of trip-hop, he thinks, but he doesn’t recognize it. Still sounds nice, kinda sexy.

He takes a shower to rinse off from the hot tub and discovers that there are speakers in the bathroom too, so he can still hear the music, and it still sounds sexy. And he hasn’t gotten laid in a while, and even then, that had been a very good, but awkward situation. He shakes his head to get that out of his mind and doesn’t think twice about jerking it, just goes to town.

With a lewd spike of arousal, Dan’s mind starts to go fuzzy when he thinks about his evening and how fucking _awesome_ it’s been.

He’s been drinking (a lot), all top-shelf of course. He hopped on the piano at one point and even smoked a cigarette, loudly proclaiming in a terrible fake British accent that he was _Lucifer Bloody Morningstar, the biggest asshole on the planet!_ He used the hot tub. He definitely ate like, six taquitos, too.

And now he’s jacking off in Lucifer’s shower. Because he _can_. And even if it’s not the same as strangling him (Dan exhales sharply), even if it’s not the same as calling him a fucking selfish prick that needs to be taught a lesson (his hand moves faster), he still has this moment (another gasp; faster), he still can take pleasure in the fact that for once (getting close), he could have it all (shudder), that he could know exactly what it’s like to be Lucifer (close) Fucking (almost) Morningstar.

“ _Fuck!”_

Dan slams his fist against the wall of the shower when he comes, a guttural sound slipping past clenched teeth.

He body is curled forward, his head tilting down while he breathes raggedly beneath the spray of the showerhead. He stays like that for a minute or two, suddenly feeling both drunk yet sober at the same time. The heat eventually gets to be too much and he turns the hot water down and lets the rapid temperature shift cool him off before he gets out.

He grabs for a huge, luxurious bath towel and glances out of the corner of his eye at a silky black and red robe hanging on the door. _When in Rome_ , he thinks to himself, and heads back out to the main living room as he ties the robe closed around his waist.

Dan’s heart is thumping and his skin feels extra sensitive. He doesn’t want to, but he starts thinking about the direction his mind took in the shower. He turns it over, tries to dissect it, but he can’t tell if he needs water or more booze to help him focus.

He goes around the bar and snags a bottle of water from one of the mini fridges and sucks down half of it. He’s starting to feel tired—exhausted, in fact—and sits on one of the bar stools, resting his arms on the smooth black marble surface.

He runs his hands over his face and through his hair slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. He still hates Lucifer. But now, when he pictures him in his head, he starts remembering things he thought he’d buried deep down. There was a time, however brief, when Dan thinks he was starting to tolerate Lucifer’s presence. When Lucifer had eased up on the name-calling; when they had both started taking turns ragging each other, and Dan’s hatred was more for show than it was serious.

Dan starts thinking about moments where Lucifer patted him on the shoulder or pressed his elbow to get past him, instead of fucking pushing him out of the way. Moments where his smile was more inviting and less irritated. Moments where Lucifer would push his ego to the side in favor of asking him for advice—even though it would usually backfire and Dan would become the brunt of a joke.

Thinking about it now, he starts to understand it because he realizes he often shuts down before letting people in, too. So they’re both bad at opening up, it just manifests in different ways.

Maybe there was a time when Lucifer didn’t _really_ hate him. Maybe he never has, and Dan just doesn’t want to admit it, because then it means that it was all him—has been—the entire time. He kills the last of his whiskey in one hand, and then finishes off the water in the other.

After setting both containers down, he sighs and rests his head on his arms over the counter, thinking to himself. The music is still playing, softly, almost as though it automatically turns down as the evening carries on. It’s relaxing, and only adds to his tired state, charming him to start thinking about sleep.

His mind inevitably circles back to the issue he ignored earlier: the moment in the shower. What a piece of work he is. First he hates Lucifer, then he sorta grows to like him while also envying him, then he begins to hate him again, for different reasons than before, and then the hate turns to some sort of fixation and now—now Dan feels confused. And tired. And lonely.

And, if he’s really honest, he’s disappointed that everything he’s done tonight doesn’t really feel that important anymore, because Lucifer isn’t here. He can’t berate Dan for drinking his alcohol, or smoking his cigarettes, or eating his food, or using his hot tub, or his shower, or (gasp) playing on his piano. He can’t pick a fight with him. He can’t even _talk_ to him.

Before Dan slips beneath consciousness, his last thoughts are that Lucifer is gone, and—damn it, so help him—he wishes he wasn’t.

~*~

Dan opens his eyes and realizes he’s still got his head down on the counter.

He lifts his head and—.

“You know, it’s unwise to keep the Devil waiting. But since you’ve been helping yourself to my property so egregiously, I guess wasting my time ranks low on your roster of offenses.”

Lucifer is standing directly across from Dan, in a suit, already holding a drink in one hand and looking at him rather indignantly.

“Hey, man, you’re not even supposed to _be_ here.” Probably not the wisest thing to come out of Dan’s mouth, and for some reason, he’s not freaking out. Why is he not freaking out?

Lucifer sets his glass down with a loud _clink_. “I beg your pardon? This is _my_ house. You’re the one who’s been traipsing around like Goldie Locks having a midlife crisis!”

Dan glances around him, notices that things seem fuzzier the further away they are—dimmer, too. He creases his brow, keeps the conversation moving forward. “Ok, fine, but…you left. If you care about this place so much then where the hell have you been?”

Lucifer rolls his eyes and raises a hand dramatically. “ _In_ _Hell_ , obviously—but I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to know that—you weren’t invited to that party.” He steadies his gaze on Dan as he raises his glass to his lips and takes a slow drink.

It takes another second before it all comes together in Dan’s mind. The out-of-focus surroundings, the lack of surprise, the ease of conversation, the fact that none of it makes sense… “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Amusement curves his lips into a grin.

With a tip of his glass, Lucifer quips, “And here I thought I’d have to draw you a picture.”

“Screw you,” Dan snaps.

“Is that a promise? You certainly seemed game for it earlier.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dan crosses his arms, knowing perfectly goddamn well what Lucifer is referring to. But he’s not about to admit it. Nope. Not gonna happen.

Sensing a weak spot, Lucifer leans forward and purrs, “Oh, someone’s a little repressed! Would another shower help clear your head?” He has the audacity to bounce his eyebrows suggestively.

Dan feels conflicted. Their conversation derailed so fast. Wasn’t this about why Lucifer had suddenly reappeared? Or why Dan was here? Right now all he can think about is punching that perfect smile. He also considers his suggestion— _Wait_.

This is a dream. He can do whatever he wants.

He lurches to a standing position and grabs Lucifer by the lapels. Ignoring the surprised (delighted) noise that Lucifer makes, Dan snarls at him. “Look, asshole. I have had it up to here with your smart aleck bullshit. I’m through watching you waltz into everyone’s space like you’re God’s gift to—.”

“—Well, actually—.”

“—Shut the fuck up, man. I’m sick and tired of seeing you get away with everything; the way people fawn over you and just do whatever you want because you’re rich and you’re handsome and you’re so fucking perfect that it _hurts_ to look at you. I’m done living in your shadow. Fuck you, Lucifer. You ruined my life.”

Lucifer stares at him, an unreadable look in his dark brown eyes. For a moment, Dan thinks that maybe he actually got through to him.

And then, “Are you finished?”

Dan reels him closer, gritting his teeth. “Did you even _listen_ to a damn word I just said?”

“Of course! I’ve been _listening_ to you grind that simple brain of yours into a right bloody mess all night!”

Even through the insult, it makes Dan pause. He frowns. “What? What do you mean all night?”

Lucifer glances down where Dan still has him gripped tightly, and just like that, Dan lets go, feeling awkward all of a sudden for how close they were just now. Lucifer stands straight, righting his suit and instinctively fusses with his cufflinks. He pours himself another drink, and then walks around the bar and to the couch.

He sits down, momentarily looking relieved and then disappointed. Dan has no idea why. Lucifer gestures for Dan to sit, and he complies without thinking, like it’s nothing. _What the hell is going on?_ Dan wonders. He knows this still must be a dream, but it’s taking a direction that feels suspiciously real.

With another swig of liquor down his throat, Lucifer places the glass on the end table and turns his head towards Dan, who’s sitting a few feet away from him. “Right. I know this might get a little complex for you but do try and keep up.”

“You’re such a dick,” Dan says half-heartedly.

Lucifer’s voice takes on a gentler quality. “Pillow talk later, right now I need you to pay attention.”

It’s fucking unfair, but it makes Dan want to yield to him. “Fine.”

Lucifer nods once and places both hands on the top of his thighs. “I—,” he swallows, “I can be prayed to. It’s not often, most aren’t serious about it, but there are the occasional few who do it with such _conviction_ that I simply can’t block it out. You’ve been particularly _deafening_ as of late and tonight was the strongest it’s ever been, especially when—well, I think you know.” He grins smugly.

Dan stares at him. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t move. Silence fills the space between them.

A frown curls Lucifer’s lips. “Deary me, I haven’t broken you already have I?”

Even though Dan knows (especially now) that there’s things about himself that he’s still figuring out, overall, he’s always been pretty certain he knows how his own mind works. None of this is it. Nothing about this situation feels like something he would imagine, consciously or otherwise. If it’s this unfamiliar, and it’s not coming from inside himself, then…

Suddenly, he draws in a breath and exhales with a short huff and blinks a few times. He starts shaking his head slowly, working a little harder to look Lucifer in the eye. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Lucifer scoffs. “And here I thought we were making progress, Daniel!”

The jibe makes Dan snap to and he points at himself. “I’m _not_ an idiot, dude—I’m just—I’m not you, alright? Not everyone’s on the same page as you.”

Lucifer’s voice wilts slightly, “Fair point.” Clearly, he’s _trying_ to rein it in. Dan recognizes that, and waves his hand for him to continue. Lucifer angles himself on the couch so he can properly face Dan. “Let’s back up to the part where you changed your mind about this being a dream. What makes you think it isn’t?”

Dan raises his voice, starting to get impatient. “Nothing about this makes sense! I mean, I’ve had some pretty bizarre dreams before, but, there’s always a certain _feel_ about them that lets you know it’s a dream. It doesn’t register as being weird or unfamiliar _while_ you’re having it. This? This is weird, man. This is different.”

Lucifer licks his lower lip, Dan pretends not to notice. “Right. Well, the good news is that this _is_ a dream. The—other news—is that it’s a dream I have a degree of dominion over.”

Dan’s face goes from confused to incredulous in an instant. “You mean like you can control it? Is this your idea of a nightmare or something?”

“I’m not Freddy Kruger, Daniel; I’m only here because I was _invited_ —in a manner of speaking.”

“What? Like a vampire?”

“Bloody hell, you are insufferable!”

“Right back at you, pal,” Dan says wryly. He watches Lucifer get huffy and feels pleased with himself that he’s the cause. But, he still wants to figure out what the hell is going on, so he flicks at Lucifer’s hand to snap him out of it. “Alright, so explain how this works.”

Lucifer’s mouth twitches in a smile and he leans a fraction closer to Dan. “That’s more like it. So, because of your exceedingly loud thoughts, I was able to traverse the realms directly to your subconscious. Think ‘Share My Location’ but instead of a pin drop it’s you screaming internally,” (he puts on an abysmal American accent) “ _I’m Dan Espinoza and my life is pathetic without Lucifer Morningstar!_

Dan side-eyes him hard, “I never said that.”

“Well that was the gist of it!”

“Ah-huh.”

There’s a pause between them. Dan thinks about what Lucifer said. He tries to process it. He tries really hard. This is so fucking weird. He says slowly, “And you can do this because…you’re the Devil.”

“Naturally,” Lucifer says brightly.

Nodding to himself, Dan gets up. “Mm-hmm, yeah, ok. We’re done here.”

“Daniel?” Lucifer stands up and reaches for him, touching his arm.

Dan looks down at the hand and up at the man across from him. He sneers and takes a step back, breaking contact. “What is it with you and the whole Devil shtick? I mean, seriously?”

Lucifer’s pleasant expression drops. “It’s not a ‘shtick,’ _Dan_. I really am the Devil. But, since you don’t believe me and we seem to be getting nowhere, we might as well move on to why you’re really here.” He effortlessly shrugs out of his suit jacket, tosses it to one side and starts rolling his sleeves to his elbows.

“What are you doing?” Dan asks.

“I’m preparing to go to blows, Daniel. Or couldn’t you piece that one together? Is your mind moving a little too slowly from drinking all my whiskey? Not enough blood in your brain yet after that orgasm you painted all over my shower?”

Dan’s fists are clenched at his sides. He shakes his head slowly. “Knock it off, man. I told you I was through taking your shit.”

“Well if that’s _true_ then what are you waiting for?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Lucifer spreads his arms wide and raises his voice. “Because this is what you want, isn’t it? You can’t stand that I’m in your way. You hate me so much that you fantasize about smashing my face in. You want to make me look as bad as you feel: ruined, defeated—pathetic!”

Dan’s left fist clocks Lucifer in the jaw. He stumbles back and Dan doesn’t wait for him to recover. He lunges at him until they both crash to the floor, Dan above him. He starts wailing on him. Lucifer punches back; lightning-quick. He blocks several attempts from Dan’s right and then switches and starts blocking on the left. Lucifer elbows Dan in the ear, stunning him. They tumble across the floor, grappling furiously.

Somewhere in the back of Dan’s mind, he notices that this doesn’t feel right. There is a physical response, the idea of pain, but nothing is concrete about it. Lucifer knees him in the stomach. Dan coughs and pitches forward. He smacks their foreheads together, and both of them cry out. That should have felt a lot worse. And there’s no blood—from either of them.

He keeps going.

He channels all the rage he’s felt towards Lucifer. Every ridicule. Every snide remark. Every whiny complaint. Every push. Every shove. Every fucking time he stole his goddamn pudding. Every time he got away with something. Every time he took the glory.

Dan gets above him again, straddling his hips. He has one hand spread over Lucifer’s crossed forearms, pinning them to his chest as Dan’s other hand snakes up over his throat and squeezes.

Lucifer purrs, “Oh, hello, we’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

Dan squeezes a little harder, his breathing ragged. Before he can stop himself he growls, “You’re suck a fucking prick. You need to be punished for all the shit you’ve put me through.”

Lucifer _laughs_. “Is that a promise?”

The last of Dan’s sense of reason begins to crumble, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from falling apart before he falls forward and presses his lip’s to Lucifer’s.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy time with some chatting afterwards. Dan's morning after realization about everything from the night before.

Lucifer’s mouth is eager and meets Dan every step of the way. It’s like they’ve done this before—or like it’s no different than if Dan were doing this with someone else—it’s effortless, is the takeaway.

His hand slips up from Lucifer’s throat and fists into his hair, mussing it and pulling, but all Lucifer does is chuckle seductively into Dan’s mouth. Their bodies are pressed tightly together. Dan drags the hand that was pinning Lucifer’s arms down to his waist and doesn’t even hesitate to work his slacks off.

“Mmm, someone’s greedy,” Lucifer says between kisses.

“Like you care,” Dan rasps. He works his lips down across Lucifer’s neck and bites, feels a stiffening response from both of them. Dan doesn’t know how, but even after fighting, the robe he’s wearing is somehow still in place. Precum soaks through the silky fabric.

All of this becomes a blur that Dan can’t stop (won’t stop) riding through. The more he just goes with it, the easier it plays out, and now it’s starting to actually feel like a dream. Time is relative—dream logic takes over—and both of them are naked and writhing against each other on the floor.

Skin rubs against skin, and it still feels a little distant, like it did when they were fighting. That doesn’t stop either of them as they continue to explore, desperate to make it feel as real as possible.

Dan doesn’t remember negotiating with Lucifer about what happens next. He doesn’t remember having any reservations about it, either.

Lucifer’s legs are propped over Dan’s shoulders, his thighs pressed against his torso. Dan’s fucking him, hard, still gripping a fistful of his hair with one hand, their foreheads pressed together.

Dan’s breathing is ragged as he thrusts; he thinks his eyes are squeezed shut with the intensity of the moment. As intense as it feels, he can recognize that it’s not enough—it’s not the real thing. That feeling is odd, but also comforting, like it’s a silent assurance that this moment is being seen by no one, just the two of them.

What the hell is his deal? Is this what he really wanted the whole time? No, not at first, at least, not consciously. He remembers a party in college, where someone dared him to kiss another guy. Rather than be accused of chickening out, because that actually seemed worse than the alternative, Dan kissed a man, on the lips, with some tongue, and his eyes closed.

His suspicions had proven right. Because he took the dare in stride and acted like it was nothing, everyone focused on the next person and that was it. Except it wasn’t.

Dan’s other hand is cupping Lucifer’s jaw; their kissing is still full of hunger, like they can’t stop themselves.

He thinks about the aftermath of that fateful night in college. Somewhere between the taste of Lucifer in his mouth and the feeling of his body arching below him, Dan’s memory conjures up a visual of the second time he found an opportunity to kiss a guy (the same one from the first time, in fact). It was another party. It was behind a tool shed. Nothing was said, their eyes just met and then they snuck away.

Lucifer’s hands are gripping Dan’s biceps and his nails are digging in, but leaving no marks. It still feels good. Everything about this is fulfilling in a way he never imagined. It’s like solving an old case that’s been bugging him for years and suddenly, one missing piece makes it all come together. It’s somehow familiar and at the same time new.

He feels like he could keep going and never stop. He’s not sure he wants to.

As if hearing him (maybe he said that aloud?), Lucifer laughs wickedly, deep in his throat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Daniel.”

“You talk to too much,” Dan growls.

“Then make me stop,” he grits.

Between their labored breaths, Dan shifts the hand that was on Lucifer’s jaw and starts to choke him again. Lucifer’s eyelids flutter closed and he exhales with a shudder. Dan rocks his hips in a steady rhythm; getting close. Lucifer’s arms tighten around him and he makes lewd, encouraging noises. Dan starts dragging his thrusts out.

Lucifer’s lips twitch into a grin and he groans Dan’s name like it’s a dirty word.

Something about that sends Dan over the edge, and before he knows it he’s coming, hard, a loud moan escaping between his lips. His hips are pressed firmly against Lucifer’s ass; both of their bodies are shaking. Their heads are buried in each other’s necks, each gasping for air as they come down.

~*~

Dream-logic continues to warp the setting. Dan is curled on his side, his head resting against Lucifer’s chest, their breathing gone steady again. He looks up at the ceiling, at the peculiar, upside-down tree-like fixture that has always puzzled him; it looks like it belongs in the penthouse and nowhere else. Lucifer’s body feels smooth beside him. Dan looks down at his right arm, slung across the other man’s stomach casually, like they’d been doing this for years.

He thinks he might be slipping into deep sleep, because the light around him is growing dimmer; and what sensation there is, is starting to dwindle.

Lucifer pulls him out of it by saying, “Did that do the trick?”

Almost forcibly, Dan feels like he’s being pulled back into the dream state—sort of like being woken up—except not, since he’s still dreaming. It’s a little disorienting. He slides his arm off of Lucifer’s abdomen and props up on his left elbow to look at him. “What?”

Lucifer’s expression is unnervingly unreadable. “Did fighting and fucking quell your need to shout at me through your subconscious?”

Dan feels a pang in his chest, however remotely it comes through in this dream state. He’s suddenly reminded of how lonely he’s been. How lonely he feels. “Is…that what this was?”

“Obviously! I thought I was quite clear. Really, Daniel, how is it you ever made detective in the first place?”

Dan feels a spike of anger and—lust?—shoot through him. He chooses to ignore both feelings and concentrates on the fact that, despite Lucifer claiming his irritation with Dan’s persistent thoughts (prayers?), he still did something _for_ him. He didn’t have to do any of it. Not like this.

“Why did you do this? If I really got on your nerves that bad, you could have just told me to fuck off.”

Another indecipherable look crosses Lucifer’s face and it’s always interesting when he doesn’t immediately say something back. It usually means he’s been caught in the grips of an emotion he doesn’t want to admit to. Yeah, Dan’s been paying attention. Up until very recently, it was for different reasons, but now he’s looking at everything with a totally new perspective.

“That wouldn’t have had _nearly_ the same effect! No, this way, you get it out of your system and I get some peace and quiet. Everybody wins.”

Before Dan can stop himself, he counters, “What if I relapse?”

“Well, I know I’m irresistible, Daniel, but I’m also extremely busy!”

“Oh, yeah, doing what? Running Hell?”

Lucifer flies one of his hands up in the air. “Yes! Now you’re getting it. So if you don’t mind—.”

Dan puts up a hand and cuts him off. “Wait! Just—just wait a second. Answer me a few questions first and then we’re all good, I promise.”

Lucifer _always_ likes to have all the answers and Dan knows it. He’s seen him leap at the opportunity countless times. He knows whether or not Lucifer’s aware of it, that he likes to be included by way of providing his opinion like its second-goddamn-nature. And maybe it is.

Either way, Dan’s proven right when Lucifer huffs, “Very well.”

“If you’re so busy, then how is it that you can justify that we’ve spent all this time together? It feels like it’s been hours.”

Lucifer’s eyes get wide and a little droopy, and there is pity in his voice. “Oh, Daniel, you still don’t quite get it, do you?” As much as it’s another jibe, there’s a softer quality to it, and Lucifer reaches up and strokes his thumb across Dan’s cheek. Dan lets him. “Haven’t you ever had a dream that felt like you lived an entire year, only to find that you had been asleep for no more than a few hours?”

Dan nods, “Right, dream logic.”

His mind suddenly brings him to thoughts of Malcolm Graham. He remembers when Malcolm had him tied down in that basement and mentioned something about Hell—how seconds felt like years. Malcolm had been dead for all of fifteen, maybe thirty seconds before he miraculously came back to life. If he had really gone to Hell, and Lucifer really had been telling the truth this whole time…

Dan blurts out, “Does time pass differently down in Hell?”

Completely thrown by the shift in conversation, Lucifer pauses and then regains his composure. “Yes. The veil between the realms is at its thinnest when humans are unconscious.” His tone takes on an irritable lilt. “It’s why whenever Dad wanted us to deliver one of his cryptic messages to his beloved humanity; we were advised to do it while you slept. Otherwise, it comes out all wrong—misunderstandings of _Biblical_ proportions, if you get my meaning.”

After everything that’s occurred in this ‘dream,’ Dan knows he’ll be freaking out when he wakes up tomorrow and it all sets in. But in this moment, he wants to keep Lucifer here just a little longer. For lots of reasons, some of which he’s not ready to acknowledge. But one reason tells him that maybe Lucifer needs this right now, too. Maybe Dan isn’t the only one who’s been feeling lonely.

To confirm his suspicions, he says, “You’ve been gone about a month up here. How long has it been for you?”

A haunted look works its way into Lucifer’s eyes and all at once it makes Dan regret how much energy he’s put into hating him. It’s a look Dan’s seen from victims of repeated abuse. A look that says, ‘I’ve been hurt so many times, I’ve lost count.’

“You don’t want to know and I don’t want to say.”

Dan thinks of the people he’s saved. He remembers all the ones he couldn’t. He turns over in his mind all of the times Lucifer has openly complained about being manipulated by his father—by _God_. He thinks about the story of the Devil—the Fallen Angel—and how, if it’s really all true, then Lucifer’s been suffering for a long, _long_ time.

Without even including everything that’s happened between them tonight, Dan’s sympathy for those who have suffered at the hands of others washes over him in a wave of compassion.

He touches his fingertips to Lucifer’s chin and they look at each other. Dan doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t have any words that he knows would make a difference. Instead, he chooses to act, and brings Lucifer into a deep, gentle kiss, which is openly received.

The kiss starts to get a little more active, and Dan can feel Lucifer’s lips start to smile as he pulls away. “As much as I’d love to have another go, I really should get back. I can split my attention between the realms well enough, but you are _quite_ the distraction.”

Dan knows Lucifer is covering, because even through the warm grin, he still looks a little wounded at the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t press the issue but he does ask another question. “When you say you can split your attention, do you mean you can—can you _see_ Hell right now?”

“Of course, how else could I keep an eye on the place while I tend to your fragile ego and shag you senseless?”

“Hey, last I checked, _I_ was the one on top.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t the one who cried out and creamed himself like a teenager.”

“Fuck you,” Dan laughs.

“Later, darling, I really must be going.”

“Fine. Maybe—,” Dan has a moment where he’s afraid to say, afraid to ask, and tells himself none of it might matter by morning so what does he have to lose? “Maybe we could talk more, later?” He bites his bottom lip and then adds, “I still have lots of questions.”

Lucifer smiles at him, and something about it feels intimate. “You humans do like to sleep nearly every night,” and kisses him tenderly.

~*~

Dan stirs awake, and as soon as consciousness floods through his body, he’s suddenly very aware of how stiff he feels. He sits up. He’s in the main room, somehow having made it through the entire night passed out on a bar stool. There are drool stains on the arm sleeves of the robe.

He yawns and stretches. His hand immediately goes to the back of his neck and he winces, feeling his muscles scream at him for being a fucking idiot. He sighs and heads to the bathroom. After taking a piss he looks at himself in the mirror, leaning forward on the counter.

The night before swims back into focus like a heady rush, and he shivers for a second and shakes his head vigorously. The immensity of it all begins to weigh on him. It seeps through cracks in his sanity, threatens to split him apart. He feels small, insignificant, hollow, terrif—.

_Don’t spiral. Just focus._

His mind begins arguing cases for and against if what he experienced was real or not. There were moments that felt real—like, _really, real_ —in ways that he can’t properly put into words.

There were moments that felt like the usual, surreal flavor that dreams take on—mostly the sex— _holy shit_. (Or would that be unholy?) Did he and Lucifer really have sex? Did he just imagine that or was that the pseudo-dreaming that Lucifer had a hand in orchestrating?

What the hell does any of that even mean?

_Don’t panic. Be cool. One thing at a time._

Dan rubs his face with both hands and hops into the shower. He decides not to do anything other than rinse off. While the hot water rushes through his hair and over his skin, softening the aches in his muscles, Dan starts thinking more seriously about, well, _everything_.

He works first on what he figures he can make sense of the most—his sexuality. It’s pretty easy, actually. He recalls when he was much, much younger, and he was curious what the difference was between boys and girls, in terms of attraction. He wondered about it often, but never asked aloud.

By the time high school happened, he still wondered, but he played a lot of sports, and knew better than to let that crowd catch on to his private fascination. It continued to show up whenever he watched porn. He’d find himself enjoying the men just as much as the women, if not more so, on occasion.

And then: college.

But that’s where it stopped, too. Dan remembers that moment behind the tool shed, and the rest of the memory rolls over him like the water streaming down his back. He and (his mind takes a second to supply the name) _Tristan_ were making out, and they started feeling each other up. Dan was actually pretty into it; he even remembers groping him through his pants. But then someone else came walking back and the threat of being caught was suddenly so overwhelming that he bolted from the scene.

Dan shuts off the tap and towels off. Old wounds reopen and he feels a wave of guilt wash over him. He thinks about how he was afraid to be seen with another man. All the usual stigmas that society fed him had cropped up into one perfect knot of fear and he ran like a fucking coward. After that, he shoved those feelings down and buried them deep.

Every time after that when he found a man attractive, gut feelings of _fear—threat—shame_ would shoot through him so violently that he grew to just flat out hate it and resent it.

He takes that knowledge and holds it up beside his first impressions of Lucifer. Yeah, that tracks. It makes perfect sense.

“Son of a bitch,” Dan mutters, shaking his head.

He wanders into the bedroom like it’s his, and, thanks to his investigative (obsessive) work he did yesterday, he knows the closets inside and out. One side of the walk-in that houses suits also has a section of clothing that looks nothing like what Lucifer would normally wear. Dan figured it was a ‘lost & found’ or maybe some sort of emergency spare clothes for all the people he sleeps with.

The idea is bizarre to think about, but Dan considers that for someone with Lucifer’s lifestyle, it’s probably just his standard level of courtesy. If he looks at it that way, it’s a lot easier to digest. One cursory sniff of the clothes and Dan notices that none of it smells like individual people—just clean laundry—there’s not even a particular detergent scent. Lucifer _would_ include that bit of extra effort, Dan thinks.

Satisfied that it’s safe and not _that_ weird, Dan slips on a dark blue t-shirt, helps himself to a pair of Lucifer’s silky black briefs (because he knew they’d feel nice and—oh damn—they _do_ ), and finds a pair of chic, black track pants that fit him surprisingly well.

He microwaves one of the fancy-ass frozen meals and grabs a glass of water. He’s starting to feel the ache of a mild hangover, but it won’t be too bad once he gets some food in him. He plops down on one end of the couch.

Dan wolfs down the food and drinks more water. He wanted to snag one of Maze’s green tea coconut waters but thinks she would probably murder him in his sleep if she found out. She’s quite a character, but he cares about her, in his own way. He likes that they can share in a taste for violence now and again—even if Dan still wrestles with himself how healthy that really is. Regardless, they’re battle buddies, and that is something that he can appreciate and respect about their friendship, however unusual it may be.

His brain makes a leap and his stomach plummets into mild nausea.

He can’t count how many times he’s heard Lucifer refer to Maze as a _demon._

The knives, the fighter’s spirit, the leather, the habit of calling people ‘humans’ just like Lucifer does. _The_ _fucking_ _knives_. Shit, she’s even talked about Hell more than Lucifer has.

Raw, unfiltered dread finds a window of opportunity into Dan’s mind.

It starts off with shallow, fast breaths. Dan’s stomach starts to turn. His hands feel shaky. He looks across from him. The wall inlays with the ancient writing on them. He looks behind him. All of the centuries-old, leather bound books. His eyes start scanning frantically around the room.

Whispers from the past start playing out in his head. Every time Lucifer loudly proclaimed he was the Devil. Every time he talked about something from history like he had _been there_. Every time he had been shot, but there was no blood—except the rare occasion when there was. Every suspect who screamed and shook after he had been alone with them. That thing he did to get people to just reveal their innermost desires.

Dan had been on the receiving end of that once—or was it twice? His brain tells him it was once, his gut tells him that isn’t true.

Fuck.

_It’s all real._

_It all makes sense._

Dan disjointedly slips down to the floor. He sprawls out flat, like a pool of liquid. He stares up at the ceiling and wonders where he’s headed when he dies. He wonders if what he did with Lucifer affects that. He starts to tremble.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of Dan's freakout, an unlikely friend swoops in to snap him out of it.

The elevator doors to the penthouse open and Maze steps through. She was about to make a b-line for the fridge when she notices Dan lying on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, starfish style.

She drops her duffle bag and hunches forward, a blade drawn in one hand, ready to strike. As she makes her way over to the living area, she calls out, “Dan? Are you dead?”

His head shoots up, his eyes wide. He backward-slides/scrambles until he slams against the balcony doors and bangs his head, though he hardly seems aware of having done it.

Maze holds out one free hand and raises open fingers on the hand holding the knife. “Hey, hey, whoa! Relax, it’s just me.” She’s about to ask if he’s alone when—.

“—Y-you’re a _demon_!” He shouts. He pants, one hand held out to keep her away, voice oddly not accusatory so much as just terrified. “An _actual_ fucking demon!”

She raises her scarred brow and gives him a mildly impressed look. “Yeah, and?”

Her consistent flat tone sobers Dan just enough for him to calm down a fraction. He’s still plastered against the glass doors but he manages to lower his outstretched hand and his voice falters. “You-you don’t seem surprised—that—that I’m surprised.”

Maze snorts, “Nope.” She sheaths her blade with a flourish of her wrist and stomps back towards the fridge to grab one of her green tea coconut waters. She calls out, “You want one?”

Dan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and his rigid posture softens until he sinks more naturally against the doors. His voice comes out small and bewildered. “Uh, yeah, actually.”

She returns and places herself firmly on the end of the sectional, closest to Dan, even though it’s about six feet away. She rolls a can towards him and cracks open her own to take a sip by the time he catches it.

Maze lets her gaze move over him and notices that he’s just _staring_ at her like he can’t fathom what he’s seeing. Unable to resist, she takes advantage of that and reveals her demon face. “Boo!”

“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Dan gasps, dropping his (thankfully) unopened can and slams his head against the glass again, a sharp hiss escaping his throat.

Clearly, he’s starting to loosen up. The sudden pain that rushes forth helps to keep him from doing something ridiculous, like signing the cross and reciting a prayer like he’s some sort of fucking exorcist. He must be doing _somewhat_ ok if he’s able to think he’d look too much like a tool if he tried something like that.

As quickly as she had dropped it on him, her human face returns and she’s laughing good-naturedly, like he told a funny joke. He tries again, though his voice comes out a little hoarse. “Seriously though, why aren’t you surprised?”

Maze shrugs. “You were gonna figure it out eventually. Thought you’d be the first, but,” she rolls her eyes, “That didn’t happen.” She says it like she’s pissed she lost a bet. Maybe she did.

Dan has so many questions. He _is_ starting to calm down though. Maze’s distinctly nonchalant behavior has a great way of dampening his level of panic. It’s comforting; despite the fact he’s still kind of terrified by a lot of things. He’ll get over it. He has to. He’s not a wuss, damn it.

He manages to sort his questions out one at a time. “Why’d you think I’d be first?”

Maze takes another swig. “After all that digging you did on Lucifer it just seemed like that’s where you’d end up.”

He nods slowly and lifts a shaky hand to open his drink. He fumbles when trying to do so and swears under his breath when it takes a few tries. He’s still kind of a mess. When he finally takes a sip, he lets out a sigh. “Who found out first?”

“Linda; she took it like a champ.”

“ _Linda knows?_ Wait, then does that mean her and Amenadiel—.” Dan stops himself, thinks, then his eyes widen. In a loud whisper, he asks, “Is Linda’s baby an angel?”

Maze loud-whispers back, “ _Half_ angel, dummy.”

“Shit,” he says with feeling. He takes a drink; his eyes stare off into space because looking at her is still a little too much right now.

With an upturned nod, Maze asks, “So Dan, how long has your brain been scrambled?”

Dan gives an easy-going bob of his head, looking a little sketchy in the eyes. “Few hours, maybe. What time is it?”

Maze glances at her phone,“Ten-thirty.”

It was about seven-ish when he woke up today. After the shower and the breakfast, yeah, ‘a few hours’ is spot-on. Good to know his internal sense of time isn’t _totally_ fucked. Not like it was last night…

Maze scrunches her eyebrows. “So what tipped you off, anyway?”

Dan shrugs, shakes his head, and frowns. “S’nothing. Just a—,” he clears his throat, “—just a dream I had—made it all come together.”

“A dream? _Really_?”

“Mm-hmm, yeah,” Dan says quickly. “Just, you know—,” he pauses, and then suddenly meets her gaze, “Did you know Lucifer can enter your dreams if you think about him hard enough?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, _that_ kind of dream,” she winks at him and toasts with her can.

“No, not _that_ kind of dream—well, I guess, actually—.”

“—No, I know what you meant.” Maze laughs, “But it’s Lucifer: it’s _still_ gonna be that kind of dream. So, what, you two banged and had a heart to heart afterwards?”

Dan rolls his eyes and holds his arms out. “It wasn’t like that.” (It totally was).

“Oh yeah, so then what was it like?”

Regaining a shred of courage, Dan points a finger at her and says, “Nope.”

Maze scoffs, but not like she’s actually mad, “ _Fine_.” She points right back at him. “I’ll just get you wasted later. You’ve got quite a mouth on you when you’re shitfaced.”

“Guess I’ll just have to watch my back won’t I?”

“You’ll never see it coming.”

“Challenge accepted.”

They grin at each other.

He’s glad that Maze was the one he got to talk to about all of this first. He’s not sure anyone else would have been able to get him grounded in quite the same way. It’s a bro thing, even though she’s a woman—or a demon, rather. Well, demons can be female, too, right? Screw it; it’s still a bro thing.

He focuses on that, and is grateful that he’s relaxed enough that he’s no longer worried about puking from shock. There were several minutes earlier in the day where he was certain he’d spill his breakfast all over the floor. Small victories.

In a more somber tone, she says, “So, you got to talk to Lucifer?”

Dan doesn’t miss the undercurrent in her voice. “Can you not talk to him?”

She shakes her head, lips closed. “You gotta have a soul to interact with the divine like that. Demons don’t have souls, so, it’s not included in our family plan.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than, “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, its fine. Besides, if I could talk to him like that, I’d probably just prank call his ass until I got bored—which—I get bored pretty quickly.”

He laughs with a small exhale through his nose. Then more thoughtfully, he says, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For keeping me steady.”

She smiles and flicks her head, tossing her hair. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t have you ruining my spa day, now could I?”

Dan gives her a dubious look. “I thought you used the penthouse for dates.”

Maze laughs. “I don’t come here _just_ to have sex, Dan—although it’s been handy—and it’s nice having a free bar. No, I came here to use the hot tub and do my nails. Lucifer’s got a fancy mani-pedi kit that I’ve been taking _full_ advantage of since he’s been gone.”

He nods and then his gaze shifts away as he starts thinking about Lucifer more intently. There’s still quite a lot to process there. Before he gets too sucked into his own head, Maze pulls him out of it.

“Hey,” she says. He flashes his gaze back up to her. “Why don’t you go get us some towels?”

Dan automatically starts moving to do as she says, but halfway through standing he quips, “What, am I your errand boy?”

Working her boots off, she rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Dan.” She walks towards her duffle bag she’d left by the elevator and calls back, “You wanna hang out or not?”

~*~

Maze makes them some very stiff and delicious margaritas. They day-drink in the hot tub, and even though it’s warm, bright and a bit breezy, being in the hot water still feels awesome. Dan just loves the water in general, really. In fact, surfing has been one of the few things keeping him sane these days. He wonders if Maze would be interested in checking it out.

Before he gets the chance to ask, she springs a question on him. “So why are you here?”

“You mean, on this planet, or in L.A., or…” he trails off smugly.

She splashes the water between them, “The penthouse, dumbass!”

The humor doesn’t quite leave Dan’s eyes but his voice softens. “I wasn’t lying. I did want to beat the shit out of Lucifer.”

“Right, but you knew he wasn’t here.”

Dan takes a sip of his drink and licks his lips, looking away momentarily. “You remember when you kicked me out of Lux a while back?”

“Yeah.”

“Well you were right. I _was_ looking to be punished. I was out of control. I started seeing Linda—but then she had Charlie and—well you know, she’s had her hands full since. And then the Mayan happened and everything just…fell apart.”

Maze looks at him quizzically, “Fell apart like how?”

“I was so fucking mad that even though Lucifer was gone, it didn’t make things better, it just made them worse. Chloe’s been in hardcore workaholic mode, I’ve been in a pit of self-loathing, and Trixie’s been caught in the middle of our bullshit. I blamed Lucifer for all of it. I came here because I didn’t think he was really gone—that if I did some digging, I’d find out where he was and I could confront him. I could settle shit with him then maybe I’d have some closure.”

She smirks. “You should have just led with that when you came over to Linda’s yesterday. If I’d known you were still that obsessed with him I would’ve just told you the truth then.”

He tosses her a cynical glare. “Thanks.” He frowns, setting his drink down. “But you’re right. Might have saved myself a trip down Existential Crisis Lane if I just gave up on looking for him.”

Maze takes a drink and sets her glass down, too. She gives him a calculating stare and flicks her head to toss her hair off her neck. “Do you wish you had?”

Thinking about all of it, the nerve-racking uneasiness of this morning starts to creep over him again. His gaze darts away from hers for a moment, and as if on cue, when he looks back, the demon half of her face is there, staring at him with that deadened, milky white eye.

He flinches violently, and backs right up against the opposite end of the hot tub. But he doesn’t take his eyes off her. He swallows, breathing hard through his nose. It’s like he’s testing himself, trying to steel against the gruesome reality in front of him so that everything else he’s learned isn’t so tough to stomach.

Another few seconds and her face returns to normal.

Demon face aside, he realizes, she’s still the same person, she’s still _Maze_. A woman he knows would protect his daughter with her life and kill as many people as it took to keep her safe. A woman who has fought by his side several times like the best partner he’s never had. A woman who helped him co-opt a fucking murder and didn’t ask for anything in return. A woman who looks at him like she’s worried she might have just lost a friend.

Dan is aware he’s been staring, even after her face changed back, for longer than is probably appropriate. But he’s only human, and this is still a lot to take in.

He blinks a few times, coming back to himself and shrugs. “Nah, I’m good right where I’m at.”

~*~

They spend the rest of the day at the penthouse. Dan talks a little more about what he’s been going through. Maze actually listens. She throws the occasional jab, but never enough to really piss him off or keep him from sharing more.

They get Thai food delivered. By the late afternoon, Maze is sitting on one of the outdoor loungers in her one-piece black bathing suit and a pair of sunglasses, legs stretched out, sipping a Thai iced tea and crunching on an egg roll. Van Halen is pumping through the stereo.

Dan is painting her toenails.

He doesn’t mind doing it, and he’s actually pretty good at it, too—the perks of having a daughter come in handy at the strangest times—but he isn’t doing this just because he feels like it.

Maze calls it payback for, _‘basically doing Linda’s job’_ —her exact words. Dan doesn’t complain. He knows she’s not really into talking about feelings. He gets the sense that she has her own reasons for helping him out.

He’s just grateful for the support. Its doing wonders for his mental state to just shoot the shit and do some mundane, easy-going activities. He’s pretty sure Maze is getting a kick out of it, too, so, there’s that.

Not to mention, it’s just between them; no one has to know. Dan feels guilty about that. He thinks about what he did with Lucifer, and how much he was willing to just go with it because he didn’t think anyone would ever find out—that there was safety in secrecy. Yeah, he’s got some issues to work out.

He wonders what Lucifer thinks about what they did. He wonders if he’ll even get a straight answer. The man is notorious for missing the point. It drives Dan nuts, but maybe if he plays his cards right, he’ll get the truth out of him, one way or another. Maybe he’ll even have to teach him another lesson.

“Hey lover boy,” Maze calls.

Dan pops his head up, “Hmm?”

“You’re dripping on me.”

His cheeks flush and he looks down to discover that he let the nail polish brush drip over one of Maze’s toes. He swears under his breath and dabs at it with a cuticle swab soaked in acetone. “Sorry, guess my mind was somewhere else.”

“Ah-huh.” Her teeth glint against the sunlight as she takes a sip from the straw.

It takes Dan a moment to realize what she meant when she called him ‘lover boy.’ A nervous wriggle shoots through his stomach. He flicks his gaze up to her, pausing in his task. “Hey, uh, don’t—don’t tell anyone about that, ok?”

Maze scoffs, “What, like, for real?” He shoots her an icy glare, made only more intense by the bright blue of his eyes. She holds her hands up. “Alright, fine. I won’t tell anyone you got the hots for Lucifer.”

“It’s not like that!” he yells.

Anyone else and he might have scared them off. But this is Maze he’s talking to. She stares right back at him. He relents and goes back to what he was doing.

Sighing, she says, “Whatever. You want to live in denial, fine; I hear it’s great this time of year.” He flashes another angry look. She continues more earnestly, “But, for what it’s worth, I promise I won’t say anything—to anyone.” She makes a zipping gesture from one end of her lips to the other and tosses the imaginary key.

Dan looks ups at her. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Maze laughs. “Don’t be. It’s good to see you get some of your fire back.”

He smiles and then gives an upturned nod past her shoulder. “There any pad thai left?”

“Maybe. You gonna do the other foot?”

“Slave driver.”

“Sap.”

“Hey,” he whines, even though he’s still grinning.

Maze hands him the food carton. “It’s true.”

He huffs a laugh, and digs in to the last of the noodles with a shake of his head.

~*~

“So you’re just gonna hang out here the whole weekend like a total stalker, huh?” Maze asks, standing by the elevator door, holding her duffle bag.

Dan raises his brow and rubs the back of his neck. “What can I say; it’s been a rough couple of days—weeks, really, if I’m being honest. I figured I’d have left this morning, but then shit went sideways _real_ fast and now…I don’t know, I guess I kind of feel…safe here?” He nods slowly, looking like he’s not even sure what he means.

“No, I get it. It’s still weird—but I understand what it’s like to need a place to figure yourself out. Sometimes the best places are the ones farthest from home.”

Maze’s words strike a chord in Dan. He knows what she means by, ‘home.’ They talked a little bit about her missing Hell and then finding family here, where she never thought she’d find such a thing.

He thinks that might be what he’s experiencing in Lucifer’s penthouse right now. It’s so far removed from everything he knows that it allows him to be able to look at himself in an unfiltered way, out of his comfort zone and free to explore.

“I think you’re right,” he says softly.

Maze twists her lips into a half-smile and turns to walk into the elevator. Right before she presses the button, she calls out, “Hey Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Lucifer that he owes me big time for breaking you in.”

Dan pulls his head back, perplexed. “But you didn’t—.”

Her demon face is back. He twitches a little, but that’s it. A grin starts to form at the corner of his mouth. Her face switches back and she mirrors him, and then the elevator doors close.

A small, involuntary shiver rolls down his back and he laughs, shaking his head. He chews at his bottom lip and checks the time. It’s still kind of early. In the best-worst way, he’s actually too wired to go to sleep yet.

He rocks on his heels for a bit, and then decides to watch some T.V. After a few hours, Dan finally starts to get a little droopy-eyed. He doesn’t let himself crash on the couch, though. This time, he’s going to find out what the bed is like.

Once he’s finished with his evening routine, he strips down to just the borrowed briefs and slips beneath the covers. The sheets are a little cold to the touch at first, but they’re _super_ soft and they warm up quickly. The bed is huge and feels like a cloud, if a cloud had tangible form. The pillows are not overly filled, and stay just cool enough that they are very soothing. Dan is now almost certain that he can _sense_ how expensive something is just by feel.

He stares up at the ceiling and considers how strange, and, oddly illuminating the last few days have been. If he really thinks about it, he feels… _better_. It’s like a weight he’s carried his entire life has become a little lighter. The difference reassures him that he might be finally doing something right.

Dan thinks about the fact that God, the Devil, angels, Heaven, Hell—they’re all _real._ It frightens him. He wants to ask a million questions, but at the end of the day, maybe getting answers isn’t really the point. It’s about the journey, not the destination, and all that.

Ok, so he does still want to ask Lucifer _some_ questions. It’s like the almanac from _Back to the Future:_ if you had the chance to gain even just a little bit of insight, wouldn’t you?

Besides, Lucifer has always been incredibly loose-lipped with celestial secrets that Dan feels little fear in picking his brain for some intel.

He can’t help the smile that forms on his lips. It’s fucking ridiculous to think that barely forty-eight hours ago, Dan was intent on strangling the life out of Lucifer and instead ended up…well, not doing that, and no longer wanting to, either.

He still feels a little awkward about what they did. It didn’t feel like such a big deal when he was dreaming. He figures it has to be because inhibitions don’t really factor in to dreams they way they do in the conscious, waking world.

More than anything Dan just wants assurance from—well, from Lucifer—that what they did wasn’t just a quick fix to forget about later. He needs to know that it wasn’t wrong or weird or anything. He hates that he’s still afraid to think about exploring that part of himself.

Exhaustion finally begins to course through him and his eyelids begin to get heavy. He thinks about Lucifer. He wants to see him again. His last thoughts as he drifts to sleep are that he doesn’t want to be alone, and he’s pretty sure that Lucifer doesn’t want to be alone, either.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another round of sexy time followed by some serious discussion.

Dan twists around in the silky sheets languorously. He sighs and blinks his eyes a few times, adjusting to the darkness of the room. Because he was ready for it, he doesn’t startle when he sees Lucifer standing at the foot of the bed, his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, good, you’re finally asleep.”

“Were you waiting very long?” Dan asks lazily.

Lucifer cocks his head to the side and smirks. “No, but I was admiring the view.” After a moment, his pleasant demeanor wanes and he draws in a breath, looking Dan up and down rather clinically. “How are you faring?”

He actually looks _afraid_ of what Dan might say. It makes him frown. He slides into a sitting position, the bed sheets draping over his lap. “I’m—I’m ok, I think.”

“Really?” Lucifer says, sitting down on the end of the bed.

Dan is suddenly looking at charred, mottled flesh, and eyes that glow red with an infernal, otherworldly pull. He breathes in sharply through his nose, but—bonus points—he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t even blink. He totally owes Maze like, a steak dinner or something.

Dan senses the vivid qualities Lucifer’s bringing to the dream; it all feels so surreal. The neon glow of the city bleeds through the windows, casting a soft blue wash over the room. Everything around him is harshly contrasted. The hush between them is enveloping.

The human visage reappears and Lucifer’s dark brown eyes look glassy and unnaturally bright. He’s waiting for something—or he’s hesitating.

A soft smile peeks out of the corner of Dan’s mouth. He sits up on his knees and glances down at the bed below him. “Come here.”

Lucifer smiles back. He slides upright across the bed and they meet each other in the center. They lower their gazes and their noses and lips brush across each other teasingly. Somewhere along the way, Lucifer’s suit disappears. Dan is no longer wearing briefs, either. Their hands find each other and start exploring.

Lucifer says, “I don’t know what you’ve done with Detective Douche, but whoever you are, I like you much better.”

That pulls a chuckle from Dan and he shakes his head. “Even your compliments are backhanded.”

“I thought you liked it when I insult you.”

“And I thought I told you, you talk too much.”

Lucifer hums affectionately and starts nipping at Dan’s neck, making him gasp. “I can assure you I do much more than talk; all you seem capable of is complaining.”

“Oh, that is _it_!”

Dan thrusts one hand through Lucifer’s hair and pulls their faces together, kissing him roughly. A small jolt hits him in the pit of his stomach from the brush of Lucifer’s stubble against his skin. Maintaining his hold, he starts leaning back, keeping balanced with his other hand.

Taking the hint, Lucifer moves forward with him and once Dan is on his back, the Devil gets down to business.

He takes Dan into his mouth, tongue wrapping deftly around sensitive flesh. Dan groans between clenched teeth. Tentatively, at first, he starts slowly rocking his hips upwards. Lucifer moves with him, fully willing to take his whole length and then slip back up to the top.

Tension builds in Dan’s core, his toes curl. He’s breathing faster, arching his back every time Lucifer pulls back and then dives down again. He’s fucking loving every second of this. He catches a glint in Lucifer’s eyes as he sucks him, almost reverential, like he’s grateful for the opportunity he’s been given. It makes Dan want to do things to him.

He takes his chances. “Get on top of me.” It’s not a suggestion.

Lucifer makes a pleased sound and nimbly shifts upwards. He lowers himself on Dan’s length, locking eyes with him while he does it. A strangled breath escapes his lips and he shudders. In this position, even though it’s a dream, Dan can feel the difference—sense the change in intensity.

They start moving. Lucifer braces himself above Dan, leaning backward slightly as his hands press into the bed. He keeps his head forward, staring at Dan with his mouth hanging open, his hair tousled enough that some of it drips over his forehead. He has a look on his face that says: _‘Try me.’_

Dan pushes in hard and drags himself almost all the way out as slow as he can. His thumbs dig into Lucifer’s hips. He bites down on his bottom lip. He works within the very loose constraints of the dream—relishing in the fact that he can keep this pace indefinitely.

After some time, Lucifer is shaking. He has this raw look in his eyes that touches something deep in the pit of Dan’s stomach. He holds Lucifer carefully as he shifts into an upright position, keeping their bodies stuck together. Instinctively, one of his hands slips down and reaches for Lucifer’s until they lock fingers.

Dream-rules reward Dan with the ability to keep moving easily, and he starts thrusting faster. He wraps his arm around the Devil’s back and pulls him into a deep kiss. One of Lucifer’s hands wraps over Dan’s neck. He can feel his nails digging into his skin; the tiny whispers of pain. He loves it, wants more of it.

“Bite me,” Dan growls.

Lucifer flicks his tongue across Dan’s lips and then sinks his teeth right at the space where shoulder meets neck and it’s fucking _perfect._ A guttural sound erupts from Dan’s mouth.

His hips jerk upward almost violently and Lucifer purrs, “Harder, Daniel. Do your worst.”

The way he says it sounds filthy and beautiful all at once. Dan leans forward until he’s above him and grabs Lucifer by his hips, forcing a moan out of him as he starts pumping faster. Dan’s thrusts become jagged, so close to release, but he doesn’t want to stop, it feels too fucking good.

Lucifer writhes beneath him, keeping rhythm. Even though he’s the one getting fucked, he stares at Dan with a predatory look. Between sharp pants, he grins, whispering, “Do it. You know you want to.”

Dan buries his face against Lucifer’s neck and a strained noise fights its way out of his mouth as he comes. His vision whites out for a moment.

Lucifer sucks in his breath and shudders on the exhale when he finally comes. He lets out an eerily deep, satisfied chuckle. It’s a sound only the Devil could make. And being the one who caused it sends a small thrill up Dan’s spine.

~*~

For an instant, or maybe forever, such as dreams go, Dan and Lucifer are lying side by side on their backs, staring at the ceiling. The arms between them are raised; fingers laced together, thumbs circling over skin.

As much as Dan is enjoying this, he can feel himself starting to drift from the dream state, sinking towards deeper sleep. He doesn’t want to go just yet, so he concentrates on trying to form a question. It takes him a moment, but he finally asks, “Why is it so much easier to do this when I’m dreaming?”

Lucifer rolls onto his side, keeping their hands together, and smirks. “Shacking up with the Devil? Well that’s an easy one. As far as fantasies go, it’s quite popular—especially among Catholics.”

Dan shakes his head and chuckles, “No, not that.” He flicks his gaze to their hands and squeezes. “This. Earlier today, I was a fucking mess about what we did—what we’re _still_ doing. This isn’t—this isn’t me. I mean—it _is_ —but I’ve never…”

“Enjoyed everything your own sex has to offer?”

“Not for real, no.”

“And you still haven’t!” Lucifer beams giddily. “There are so many things we’ve yet to try before you actually get to know what it’s really like. Even if it’s only in spirit, I _do_ love being someone’s first.”

Suddenly, Dan has _a lot_ more questions. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Taking too long to decide, his sensitive side betrays him and leaps at the opportunity first. “So we’ll never get to do this in person?”

A brief flash of something wary crosses over Lucifer’s eyes, and then it’s gone. He continues cheerfully, “Why bother when we have so much time in your dreams we could master the entire Kama Sutra in a week.”

Dan has a moment to question whether or not it would be a good idea to try and get Lucifer to talk about why he can’t (or won’t) come back. He tries for subtly. “C’mon, are you saying you wouldn’t want to be my first for real?”

“Oh, believe me, Daniel, I would _relish_ the opportunity to bring you to your knees in person, but—I’m afraid it’s just not that simple. Torture, I know—but then again, I _am_ the Devil.” He leans in for a kiss.

Dan kisses him back before he can stop himself. He doesn’t give up. “So that means you’re in charge, right? Can’t you just take a break?”

Lucifer grabs the back of Dan’s neck and pulls him close, so that their foreheads touch. Eyes closed, he breathes heavily through his nostrils; his voice is strained with the need to stay in control. “I know what you’re up to, Daniel; you don’t know what you’re asking. And you’re killing the mood.”

Dan has his eyes closed too. He feels a nervous twitch in his gut, but he stays put, concentrating on the feel of Lucifer’s warm breath against his lips. At the risk of scaring him off, Dan tries one last time.

“Lucifer,” he whispers, and presses their lips together. He lets the kiss lengthen just long enough until he hears Lucifer exhale softly, and then he pulls back to look him in the eye. Slowly, Dan begins with, “I just want,” he pauses—intentionally—his eyes wide and searching, “I just want to understand. Help me understand. Please.”

It’s a total dick move—the whisper, the kiss, the eyes, the hesitation—but he’s seen it work before. When he and Chloe were still married, it was her go-to move when he had trouble opening up. She didn’t use it _all_ the time, but when it got really bad, she would show him that she was patient, welcoming, and ready to hear what he had to say. Dan can only hope that Lucifer might crumble under the compassionate onslaught in the same way he did whenever Chloe did it to him.

Lucifer’s face looks deadly serious for all of about five seconds before he huffs a dry laugh through his nose, but not like he’s happy. “And how many times did the Detective pull that move on you before you got wise to it? The same way my charms don’t work on her, hers don’t work on me, so why would you fare any better?” He slinks out of Dan’s grasp and sits up on the side of the bed, his back turned to him.

_Damn it._

Dan sits up, wants to reach out to him, but stays where he is. Lucifer claimed it didn’t work, but…he hasn’t left yet. Dan gives an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, alright? It was a shady tactic but I meant what I said: I want to understand. It’s just that this whole situation is so hard to wrap my head around and—.”

“Save it. There’s no sense in dragging this out any longer I suppose.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Lucifer stands and he’s back in his suit, looking down at Dan with a guarded expression. The corners of his eyes are tight, like he’s fighting something within himself. “It _means_ that it’s time I take my leave.”

Dream-logic suddenly places Dan standing across from the Devil, wearing his briefs again. “Oh, so what, you’re just gonna bail? No explanation, nothing, just leave whenever you fucking please?”

“That’s the general idea, yes!” Lucifer hisses.

Dan is sick of this shit. Lucifer never wants to stick around for the hard parts. He’s still upset at him for leaving, for the mess he left behind when he abandoned everyone. “You can’t just keep doing that! There are consequences to everything that you do!”

“Oh, so it’s the blame game, is it? Let it all fall back on the Devil, hmm? ‘He’s the one responsible for my misery, not me!’ When will you humans get it through your paltry excuse for sentience that the choices you make are no one’s fault but your own?”

“Don’t turn this around! After you left, everything went to shit. Chloe is working herself to death just trying to get over whatever the hell happened between you two. She won’t even talk to me. Trixie still asks about you, and _I’m_ the one who has to lie to her about it! Everyone who got close to you is hurting right now. You owe us an explanation.”

Lucifer visibly bristles like he’s about to scream when abruptly, his brow melts into a curious expression. He tilts his head to the side and asks slowly, “Don’t you mean I owe _you_ an explanation, Daniel?”

Dan’s gaze darts to the side and he blinks. “This isn’t just about me.”

The Devil smiles wickedly, taking a step towards him and, damn it, Dan hates (but also kind of likes) that he has to look up at him to meet his eyes. Lucifer gets right up in Dan’s face, palms pressed against the wall, boxing him in. “Isn’t it?”

Dan shakes his head, breathing heavy. “No.”

Lucifer stares at him like he’s about to pounce. “I _heard_ you, remember? You couldn’t accept that I left you with no one to blame other than yourself. You couldn’t handle facing your demons alone so you wanted to take it out on me, hoping it might absolve you of some of your own guilt. You wanted to use me, well, tit for tat, darling, I decided to use you, too.”

It hurts more than it should when Dan hears those words. He feels like a fucking idiot. He can’t even begin to understand why it bothers him so much, because everything Lucifer said is true.

Even still, the moment Dan started opening up a different part of himself, it’s like he hasn’t been able to stop. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. The weirdest thing about it is that he wants to continue exploring that part of himself with _Lucifer_.

Maybe it’s because it started with him, and Dan’s awkward about restarting momentum with other people. (No one’s perfect). Or, maybe it’s because he feels safest in his dreams—even though technically he’s not alone in his head and he’s still not certain what that really means.

If there’s one thing he _is_ certain of, it’s that Lucifer craves physical touch. Sure, they’ve only been close like this a few times, but part of Dan’s job is to assess people’s body language—it says a lot about a person’s character. He also knows that Lucifer is never one to back away from opportunity.

Dan suddenly gets an idea. He takes a chance and cautiously slides his hands over the other man’s hips. Lucifer’s face doesn’t react, but his body instinctively responds, moving into the touch. Dan locks gazes with him. “How ‘bout we make a deal?”

Lucifer’s lips twitch in fascination, but his brow creases. “Are you feeling alright? Did I not just throw all of your validation under the bus? Because I could go the extra mile and start highlighting your poor life choices, if that’ll help clear your head.”

A laugh escapes Dan’s throat and he shakes his head, despite himself. “Do you want to do this or not?”

The Devil presses his body closer. His eyelids lower and he hovers his lips over Dan’s mouth. “I’m listening.”

He’s tempted to kiss him, if for no other reason than to close the distance between them and keep this dream going a little longer. But Dan is determined to stay focused and takes a deep breath.

He realizes he’s torn between wanting to know what happened when Lucifer left, why he won’t come back, and asking him to promise to keep visiting him in his dreams. It sounds stupid the moment he thinks about it, and it makes things feel complicated. But, he thinks he knows how to fix it.

“Ask me the question.”

Lucifer hesitates, his body poised just in front of Dan’s. “Are you sure?”

“Do it.”

An intimate smile creeps up on Lucifer’s face. He cant’s his head to the side and narrows his gaze. “What do you desire, Daniel Espinoza?”

A velvety jolt, warm and sudden, shoots through Dan. He _feels_ the difference. Even in the dream, he can sense the loss of inhibitions he didn’t even know were there. They all just …melt away.

His voice rolls past his lips like his words are made of liquid. “I want you to help me stop hating myself, whatever it takes.” The instant Lucifer removes the pull, Dan looks down. “I—I didn’t mean to say that.”

Laughter rumbles in the back of Lucifer’s throat. “Did you forget how this works? I can draw out your _deepest_ desires. It’s not a question of what you think you want; it’s whatever your truth is in the moment that I ask you. That was yours.”

Dan flicks his blue gaze back up to him and swallows. With a resolute nod, he says, “Well, now you know what I want so…what do you want in return?”

“Oh, I’m sure your ‘whatever it takes’ will cover it when I want to collect.”

“You want me to write you a blank check? How is that a fair exchange?”

Lucifer leans in and brushes his lips against Dan’s. “It’s the price you pay to have the thing you want most.” His smile broadens, his tongue flicking out just enough to tease. “So, Daniel, are you ready to get what you want?”

Dan knows he should really think about this first. He has no idea what to expect—about any of it. But there is a thrill that comes with the idea of actually getting to a point where he doesn’t feel like a piece of shit anymore. A point where he can look in the mirror and not be tormented by guilt for the fucked up decisions he’s made.

If Lucifer can really help with that, then maybe whatever he wants in return won’t even matter. Maybe it’ll be worth it.

With a grin widening his face, Dan says, “Whatever it takes,” and seals it with a kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan panics again for a bit. He and Chloe take on a case that is as unusual as it is gruesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS chapter is why I have the "Graphic Depictions of Violence" warning. The crime scene is pretty brutal. There's a reason for it though, but that will be revealed much later down the road, because I am definitely aiming for some mystery in this fic!
> 
> My knowledge of how crime investigations work is all based on media and casual internet research. I want to make it sound believable enough without bogging it down with technical details. Hopefully it suffices, but please let me know if you want me to get more detailed or if this is enough as it is.

**_Dr. Linda Martin (10:03am):_** Good morning, Dan. I’m resuming my regular hours starting tomorrow. I’d really like to continue our sessions. If you’re interested and able, text me your availability and I’ll do what I can to make it work.

 ** _Detective Dan Espinoza (10:22am):_** Hey, Linda. Thanks for letting me know. I would definitely like to continue. Monday or Tuesday after 4 work for you?

 ** _Dr. Linda Martin (10:24am):_** Let’s do Monday at 5?

 ** _Detective Dan Espinoza (10: 25am):_** _[thumbs up emoji]_

 ** _Dr. Linda Martin (10:25am):_** Awesome. _[sunglasses emoji]_

~*~

Dan is lying in Lucifer’s bed, staring at his phone. He’d actually woken up before Linda had texted him. It had taken him nearly twenty minutes to respond because he was too busy fretting over whether or not he should just call her and frantically shout, _‘How do you handle all of this?!’_

It occurred to him then that she’s known for longer than he has, so she’s probably had time to adjust. All things considered, Dan’s pretty proud of himself for the way he’s handling all of it. But he knows how shock can have latent affects. He still might have a freak-out later in the week.

He decides it’s time to get back home and get his bearings before work tomorrow.

Dan makes the bed, doing his best to recreate its pristine appearance (he tried, at least). He throws his clothes from Friday back on, even though they smell, but he figures he’s going straight home so it doesn’t matter. He’ll shower there. He takes the clothes he’s used at the Penthouse to wash them, too, because it feels weird to just leave them there.

He leaves Lux without thinking too hard about everything that has happened in the last few days. In fact, Dan is pretty good at thinking about nothing in particular all the way to his apartment.

When he gets home, he strips down, tosses everything in the hamper and hops in the shower. Immediately, he notices how not-luxurious it is. But it _is_ familiar and that’s a comfort he needs right now.

Most of the day passes by rather blandly. Dan does his dishes. He does an hour and a half workout regimen. He dicks around on his phone for a while; puts a load of laundry in the washer.

He makes a sandwich, grabs a beer, and picks out a movie on Netflix—something easy—action/adventure. _Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom_ pops up: perfect. Classic, familiar, good, old-fashioned entertainment.

Everything is fine.

And then there’s a scene involving ritual sacrifice, and Dan’s mind leaps off a cliff and plunges headfirst into a torrent of anxiety. He stares at the screen, eyes wide, his heart is racing.

_Satan…_

_The Prince of Lies…_

_Human sacrifices have been done in his name._

_People make deals and sell their souls to him._

He _made a deal with the Devil._

The movie keeps going. Dan is motionless.

_Did he sell his soul?_

_Is he going to have to start making human sacrifices?_

_Will he_ become _a human sacrifice?_

Indiana Jones is fighting cultists. Dan is fighting a mental collapse.

 _He_ slept _with the Devil. Twice._

_He enjoyed every minute of it._

_He’s even_ prayed _to him._

_Does that mean he worships him now?_

A shrill, digital melody, pleasantly unaware, signals the end of the wash cycle.

Dan suddenly sucks in a deep breath. He might have forgotten to breathe. On the exhale, which is a little shaky, he blinks a few times. He puts his face in his hands for a moment, then runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. He turns off the TV, stares at the coffee table. He chuckles, shaking his head slowly.

The moment his brain starts reviewing his own paranoid questions, Dan easily recognizes how ridiculous they sound. Lucifer openly protests people worshipping him. Dan recalls the case with the Satanists—Lucifer was furious about what was being done ‘in his name.’

He supports free will above just about any other value, which, incidentally, also destroys the notion that he would trade in human souls. He isn’t against violence by any stretch, but he clearly isn’t a fan of murder, either. Dan’s seen him get violent _because_ lives were taken.

Lucifer Morningstar is a lot of things: self-absorbed, oblivious, pushy, arrogant, dramatic…but evil? Dan can’t ignore the fact that, at one time, he was certain that Lucifer was a bad person: worthless and shitty and unredeemable. But of course, that was secretly how Dan saw (still sees) himself.

And now, Lucifer’s promised to help him stop thinking like that for good. Dan’s taking a leap of faith (he has no other way to think of it), but he believes that Lucifer means to do exactly as he says.

He wonders how that will impact what they’ve done the last two nights. He wonders when (or if) it will happen again. After they’d made their deal, the dream faded into silent, deep sleep. Dan has no idea what will happen next. He’s glad he’ll get to talk to Linda tomorrow—and glad he won’t be alone in his newfound revelations.

Dan throws the laundry in the dryer and decides to call it an early night.

He thinks about Lucifer. He wonders when he’ll see him again. He realizes that he’s already finding reasons for why he misses him—which is weird, considering how fast he’s gone from hating the guy to longing for his company.

He knows that at least part of the reason for that feeling stems from his new sexual awakening. He’s sure Linda will have some clinical term for it when he feels comfortable enough to tell her about it.

A strong wave of relief hits him when he slips beneath his sheets. Even though the bed at the penthouse is _amazing_ , Dan’s bed is the cornerstone of his own sanctuary. It’s familiar in every way it needs to be.

Dan yawns, stretches his arms and rolls onto his side. The psychological and emotional effects of the weekend catch up with him and finally take their toll. He’s out within minutes.

~*~

It’s still dark out when Dan wakes up to the sound of his phone alarm. He slept a straight ten hours. He did not have a single dream. That fact feels more jarring that it should. Somehow, he’d already gotten used to the idea of expecting Lucifer to show up. But if he was able to knock out that hard for that long, maybe he just really fucking needed it.

Thanks to long-ingrained habits, the moment his workweek starts, he’s back on his morning routine like he didn’t just go through a truly mind-altering head trip over the weekend. A few sets of push-ups, a protein-packed smoothie, shower, put on clothes, style the hair, check the pockets and he’s in his car on his way to work.

He shows up five minutes to seven am and, since things are slow right now, is happy to sink himself into some paperwork, if for no other reason than it feels like just the most normal thing to do.

Chloe marches in a little before nine, since she had to drop Trixie off at school first. She looks tired, but well-put together, so maybe she caught a break over the weekend and had some time to finally relax. Dan wants to check in with her, but honestly, he’s still feeling sore about how standoffish she’s been towards him. Better to have her come to him.

By about eleven, to his surprise, she does exactly that.

“Hey, Dan?”

He shoots his head up from his work. “What’s up?” he says easily, like he totally didn’t dream-fuck her former partner over the entire weekend.

“The lieutenant just handed me a case and he said you were reinstated last week so I was just wondering if you’re not already assigned anywhere else, if you’d want to join me?” She’s chewing on her lower lip, in that way that she does when she’s more eager than she wants to admit. Maybe she’s ready to finally talk. Or maybe she’s ready to think about it, at least.

Dan will take it. Chloe’s always been stubborn about her feelings, too. Whatever she’s been going through, he knows that she’s most comfortable when things just move along like nothing’s changed. “My car or yours?”

She flashes him an open-mouthed smile. “Either way, I’m driving.”

He stands to slip on his jacket, “Fine by me.”

~*~

Understandably, there’s tension between them on the drive to the crime scene. “So, how was your weekend?” she asks blandly.

 _Shit_. Of all the places to start—, “Uh, it was fine. Just took it easy. How was yours? You and Trixie do anything fun?”

“Actually, yeah. My mother gave me a gift certificate to a mobile day spa that has family packages, so Trixie and I got face masks and matching mani-pedis. Nothing too crazy,” she flashes very nice, sensibly done light pink nails with a gold sheen, “but Trixie loved it.”

Dan laughs, probably a little more than he should, his mind immediately bringing up his ‘spa day’ with Maze. He covers his tracks with, “A mobile day spa, huh? I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“I know, right?”

“The nails look really nice though.”

“Thanks.”

Silence ebbs back in and there’s nothing but the muffled sound of the car as it moves to fill the empty space between them.

Then, Chloe surprises him. “So, what was it you needed to see Lucifer about?”

“What?”

“Friday, didn’t you say you two had some unfinished business?”

_My ex-wife, the detective._

Dan shifts in his seat. “Uh, yeah, but it’s—it wasn’t that important,” he gives a light shrug, shakes his head, like he means exactly what he says.

She gives him a quick turn of her head before concentrating on the road again. “Oh. Well—I guess I was just surprised because, you know, he’s been gone over a month now.”

“Yeah, I thought you might still be in contact with him somehow, because you and he were pretty close.” Finally, some of Dan’s old rage rears its ugly head and he can’t hide the bitter look on his face.

Chloe’s lips tilt down. “Yeah, we were.”

Something about her tone pulls Dan’s gaze towards her and suddenly, his mind connects a few dots. Does she _know?_ Is that why she’s been so distraught since Lucifer skipped town? Trapped in a car on the way to a crime scene isn’t really where they should have that conversation.

Dan shoves that line of questioning aside and tries to be a better person. His voice is flat, but sincere. “You miss him, huh?”

“Dan, I know you hate him, but—”

“—but he was your partner,” he finishes. He manages a nod. “It’s ok, Chlo, I get it.”

She smiles and it reaches her eyes. She’s about to say something when her gaze zeroes in on what lies ahead. Dan’s eyes widen.

“Holy—”

“—shit.”

~*~

The scene takes place in a storage facility, one of dozens that service distribution shipments from all over the world. Unis are swarming around the outside of a warehouse. As Chloe and Dan step out of the car, they can’t help but fix their gazes upwards at the center of the entryway.

A man—or what is left of him—is suspended in the middle. His wrists, ankles and neck are chained up, and his torso has been split apart down the center. His guts hang loosely around his feet and below him on the ground in a reeking clump. It looks like his limbs were ripped from the sockets, but each piece of him was wrapped up with more chain, so that his general shape remains intact.

Ella is snapping photos, looking both bewildered and a little pale in the face. When she espies Dan and Chloe, she whirls around to face them. “So this is _definitely_ a new one on me.”

Chloe tries to hold down her breakfast and clears her throat. “What’ve we got so far?”

“Diego Cortez: twenty-seven, contract security guard. Facial recognition came back with zilch; no priors, not even a parking ticket. He was the nightshift. His relief was the one who found him. He’s over there,” she points across the way to a man who is wrapped in a blanket, sobbing into a paper coffee cup. Ella leans in a little closer and says, “I’d give him a few minutes before you talk to him. Check this out,” she walks them over to one side of the entrance.

Dan looks up at a complex interweaving of more chains that are strung along cables to the giant warehouse doors. He furrows his brow. “I give up, what am I looking at?”

Chloe pieces it together. “Did the other guard _cause_ this?”

Ella nods slowly, looking over at the traumatized guard. “Mm-hmm. The track the doors are on was rigged so that when the doors were pushed, the chains were pulled apart.”

“Jesus,” Dan swears softly. 

Chloe’s eyes narrow as she starts examining the body with a more speculative gaze. “Was Cortez still alive when the other guard…”

Ella brightens and puts up a hand. “He totally did _not_ kill him. We still don’t have cause of death, but if he’d been alive when this happened? The floor would look like a Jackson Pollack in one color. Instead, everything is concentrated directly below the vic, suggesting that he’s been dead for several hours before he was,” she holds her fists up, separates them and spreads her fingers out.

Dan draws in his lower lip, lets his eyes wander over the rest of the warehouse and sees three storage containers inside, tucked away at the back. “Any idea who those belong to?”

“Yeah,” Ella begins slowly, bending down to scan over a few evidence bags. She retrieves one that contains a red-stained sheet of paper. “Recovered the invoice from under the nightmare pile over there—I think it was on his person when he—well, you know. Anyway, it’s kinda smudged but it looks like it says, _McMillanCorp_? I’ll know for sure once I get it back to the lab, but that’s a start.”

Chloe nods. “Ok, great work, thanks, Ella.” She turns to Dan, casually touches his arm. “I’ll go try and talk to the relief guard, see if I can get anything out of him before we get an official statement.”

Dan nods back, retrieving a notepad from his back pocket. “I’ll get to work on the containers, see if maybe the name’s in the database, some kind of front. Maybe Cortez saw something he shouldn’t have.”

“You think this was some sort of message or maybe a warning of some kind?” she asks softly.

He gives the gruesome scene another onceover. “One hell of a warning—but yeah, I think it’s a message. This was _meant_ to be seen.”

Chloe swallows and averts her eyes from the body, focusing on Dan. “I’ll ride back with Ella if you want to get a jump on the warrant for those containers?”

“Yeah, sure. You good?”

She clears her throat and smiles with a roll of her eyes. “Uh, yeah, I just, I _was_ thinking of getting a meatball sub for lunch today, but now,” she shakes her head.

“Yeah,” Dan huffs, “Dunno if I’ll be eating meat for a while, either.”

~*~

The rest of Dan’s day is easily consumed by the horrific case.

After putting in a request for a warrant on the containers, he does some digging on the ‘McMillanCorp’ name. Nothing in the database suggests it’s anything but a construction firm located just west of Pasadena.

Later that afternoon, Ella processes the blood-soaked invoice and confirms with him that the name is correct, and the only other info that can be gleaned is that the cargo in the containers is scheduled for pickup on Thursday.

Dan makes the drive out to the company and has a talk with the owner; one James McMillan Sr. He’s a burly, gruff individual who is cooperative all the way up until he’s asked about the contents of the shipping containers. He lawyers up after that and has the gall to apologize to Dan about it with, ‘ _that’s just the way it is_.’

He’s glad he put in for the warrant already.

Chloe calls him with an update. The guard shack located just inside the warehouse showed no signs of a struggle or a break-in, which means Diego Cortez either knew the killer or he at least didn’t feel threatened when approached. The other guard wasn’t aware of anything suspicious, and Chloe believes him. Dan trusts her on it—the dude looked as white as a sheet when they arrived at the scene.

He passes on what he’s figured out so far. Background checks have been run on both guards and on James McMillan. Nothing sticks out—the only thing that seems interesting is McMillan crying ‘lawyer’ when Dan had asked him about the cargo.

Aside from that, nothing about this seems right, to either of them. Dan still thinks it could be some sort of message and plans to continue digging deeper—maybe there’s rivalry with another company. There are a lot of possibilities to explore with that angle, and it’ll take some time.

Chloe offers to help him once he gets back to the precinct.

Because of the drive he made, Dan knew if he went back to the station first he’d be late for his session with Linda, and he _really_ wants (needs) to talk to her. He already cleared it with the lieutenant that he could go directly to his appointment once he had finished his visit to the construction firm.

Dan unwittingly shoots her down, says he has an appointment he can’t miss. She sounds a bit defeated on the phone but he quickly suggests that they can do it tomorrow, since they still have to wait for that warrant to go through anyway.

He doesn’t mean to be a dick, he wants to work with her—but he just—he’s had a lot on his mind lately. He resigns to try and be more thoughtful before getting defensive next time.

She makes a joke about ‘mood swings,’ and Dan can picture the smile on her face, the way he knows it lights up her eyes if she’s feeling sassy. It’s a welcome image.

They share a few laughs at Dan’s expense (though he doesn’t mind and definitely deserves it) and then say their goodbyes and hang up. He’s grateful they ended on a positive note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'll have to leave it there for a little while. I'm in the midst of finishing Chapter 7 (Dan's finally gonna get to talk to Linda!), and starting tomorrow I gotta focus on writing papers for finals. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by the following Saturday!
> 
> I hope someone out there is enjoying this.
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Dan's first real, full-length session with Dr. Linda!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, I hope you all enjoy this. I had a great time writing it!

Dan arrives at Linda’s office just as she’s saying goodbye to a young woman who is smiling but has wet eyes. Dr. Martin waves to him and holds up a finger to give her a minute before she lets him in.

He stands, feeling suddenly very restless. He starts rocking back and forth on his heels. He taps his fingers against his hip, thinking way too hard about _everything_.

He knows the Devil is real.

He slept with him, too.

He has discovered that he is in fact, a closet-bisexual.

He feels like he’s invisible to others.

He can’t forgive himself for failing in his marriage.

He wants to be a better father to Trixie.

He is still grieving over Charlotte.

He hates himself for how low he’s sunk over the years.

He painted a demon’s toenails.

The office door swings open and Linda’s friendly face greets him. “Dan! Come on in.” He follows her inside.

She closes the door behind them and is about to sit down when Dan’s words leap from his throat. “I know!”

Linda finishes sitting and encourages him to sit across from her. He does so, but keeps himself poised on the edge of the couch. Slowly, she begins with, “What do you know, exactly?”

“ _Lucifer_ ,” he says, and just like that, a single word changes the pressure in the room.

Dr. Martin’s only tell that she knows what he means is a slight inhale and a minute shift of her head. “What about Lucifer?”

“Linda, I _know_. I know the truth—about him—about Maze, Amenadiel—your _baby_.”

She takes a much deeper inhale, studies his face, and recognizes the sincerity in his words, in his voice. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Dan—are you,” she pauses suddenly and looks him up and down. “How are you holding up?”

He bursts into a short fit of laughter and raises his arms out wide. “I’m terrified! My entire world has been tossed into a fucking blender and I have no choice but to just…drink it all in.”

Linda holds up a hand delicately. “Wait, how long have you known?”

“Since Friday.”

She stares at him. “Friday? As in, three-days-ago Friday?”

Dan nods rapidly and shrugs. “Yeah. I’ve already panicked twice but I’m—you know,” he rolls his shoulders, “I’m ok. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Dr. Martin starts to smile. “I’ll say—Dan, if this is how you’re responding after just a few days, you’re taking it really well.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Linda laughs. “I mean, when I found out, _whew_ , I couldn’t talk to a soul for like a week.”

Dan starts to calm down a little. “How long have you known?”

She nods slowly. “It’s been a couple of years. I—,” she stops and gives him a curious look. “How did you find out?”

Dan leans back against the couch, doesn’t make eye contact. Linda waits.

He draws in his lower lip under his teeth, thinking about Lucifer. Imagery starts to swirl in his mind. First the fighting, the punches, the tackling—the _anger_. And then the choking, the kissing, the groping—the _need_.

He sighs and tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling for a moment. When he finally looks at her, he shrugs, “I don’t know where to start. When we last spoke, I’d only _just_ started to come to terms with the fact that I was spiraling pretty hard.”

“Right, you blamed Charlotte’s death on Lucifer, but it was only when it nearly hurt those closest to you that you realized your blame was misguided.”

Dan makes a face and swallows. “Yeah. Well, after Lucifer left, I thought that would change.”

“Why didn’t it change?”

“I was still comparing myself to him—hating him for all the things that I hated about myself. I wanted to make him suffer the way I had. I wanted to do _something_ to make him pay for the way I felt.”

“Something like…going to the penthouse and destroying everything?”

Dan stares at her and then smirks. “I’m gonna kill Amenadiel.”

Dr. Martin holds up one of her hands. “In his defense, he was worried about you after you left my house on Friday. He volunteered the information, I didn’t ask.”

He narrows his eyes at her and then shakes his head, smiling. “Is that why you texted me on Sunday?”

She hesitates and then insists, “I really did want to continue our sessions—you had only just decided to take the leap, and I didn’t want to make you think that you couldn’t keep working towards something that would benefit your well-being.”

“Nice save.”

“Well it’s true.”

“I know.”

Linda clears her throat. “So, is that what you did? Did you go to the penthouse?”

He flicks his gaze to her and then looks off to somewhere else. “I did—but I didn’t break anything—I just…walked around like I owned the place.”

She considers him for a moment and then asks, “And how did that make you feel?”

Dan finally rests his gaze on her and the corner of his lip twitches into a grin. “Confident. Powerful. Validated.”

“And then what happened?”

He gulps. “I had a dream and Lucifer was there.”

Linda opens her mouth to say something, stops, and then tries again. “Even when we think that what we’re dreaming is unfamiliar to us, our minds have the capacity for—elaboration—that would otherwise not be as accessible as when we’re conscious.”

Halfway through her explanation, Dan was already shaking his head. “No, that’s not what this was. Besides, there were things that I was told—that I _saw_ —that I couldn’t have created on my own without having been aware of them first.”

She nods. “He showed you his face, didn’t he?”

“Yeah—but, actually, that wasn’t so bad—Maze wore me down first.”

“Wait, wait, Maze was in the dream, too?”

“No that was later.” He sighs and leans forward, using his hands to gesticulate as he talks. “Friday night, Lucifer appeared to me in a dream, except he had some sort of control over it—made it seem more real than what normal dreams feel like. He tells me it’s because he could hear my thoughts about _him_ —like I was _praying_ to him.”

“Were you praying to him?”

“No! I was just—I was just so fucking angry at him that I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to him and when he showed up, we started fighting then one thing led to another and we—.”

Dan freezes.

Admitting to this out loud is something he’s never done. Even when he and Maze sort of talked about it—she had just made assumptions and he didn’t put up much of a fight to correct her, because there was no point in doing so. And, somehow, her being a demon makes things different. He doesn’t know how, but there it is.

Linda takes the opportunity to say, “It’s ok Dan. There are no judgments here.”

He exhales a heavy sigh through his nose. “We had sex.”

“You _what?”_

“I thought you said there were no judgments!”

“I’m—I’m not judging—I thought maybe, well ok, I didn’t expect…” she trails off and clears her throat. “I apologize, I was caught off guard. So, you and Lucifer had sex,” she nods slowly and then continues, “and this was never something you had done before, was it? With another man, I mean?”

“No!” Dan snaps. He looks away from her, his face contorting in irritation. In a gentler voice, he says, “Never that far. I was always curious—I made out with a guy in college twice, but that was it.”

“If you were always curious, why was it only twice?”

Like a floodgate bursting open, Dan starts breaking down. He tells her about his fears, about the paranoia that followed from getting caught, about the disdain he developed over time any time he felt a pull in a different direction. About how he became obsessed with hating Lucifer so he could ignore how much he hated himself.

It all comes rushing out of him so fast that he sheds a few tears and swears under his breath for doing so, despite Linda’s insistence that it’s nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.

When he finally relaxes, Dan takes a few deep breaths and lets them out slowly. He throws his hands up and asks, “Why am I like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like ever since I started thinking about Lucifer in—in _that_ way—it’s like I just can’t stop getting tore up over it. It’s like a wound that won’t heal.”

Linda offers, “Or, maybe it’s more like an old would that’s just been reopened. This is a part of you that you’ve kept undeveloped for most of your life. You experienced a traumatic response when you did try to explore it, and the impact of that trauma is being exposed only now. Sexuality plays a pivotal role in helping to shape identity. By choosing to be open about exploring this part of yourself, you are taking a big step towards being your truest self. That can be very painful, but it can also be incredibly rewarding.”

“So then what am I supposed to do?” Dan asks.

“Well,” Linda tilts her head to the side in thought and then looks at him. “Have you talked to Lucifer about any of this?”

Dan scoffs, “I tried. He keeps dodging the issue—like he always does.” He shakes his head, saying more to himself than to her, “Why did I think making a deal would change that?”

“I’m sorry—did you say you made a deal with him?”

His gaze trails downwards and he nods slowly, “Yeah.”

Dr. Martin shifts in her chair. “Why did you think that making a deal with the Devil would change his attitude towards you?”

“Because I was selfish,” he hisses. Linda waits quietly for him to continue. When he does, his voice comes out strained. “I wanted him to take responsibility for something I felt he was directly involved in. I knew making a deal would keep him involved.”

“But did you mean it?” Linda asks curiously.

“Did I mean what?”

“The deal. You say that you feel selfish for using the deal like it was a manipulation—but did what you ask him actually matter to you?”

_Whatever it takes._

Dan lets out a long sigh. “Yeah—a lot, actually.”

She smiles. “And do you believe that he’ll follow through with it?”

His face cracks into an uneasy expression. “That’s part of his whole thing, isn’t it? Man of his word and all that.”

Linda nods slowly. She hesitates for a moment and then her curiosity gets the better of her. “May I ask—?”

“—knew that was coming,” Dan cuts in with a smirk.

She puts up a hand. “I’m sorry—you’re right. That’s totally none of my business; I just thought it might help put some things into context for me.”

“No, I get it, it’s fine. I, uh, asked him to help me stop hating myself.”

Her eyes widen and she tilts her head forward slightly. “That was really brave of you.”

His eyes tighten around the edges just a little. “Thanks.”

Linda smiles again and then glances at the clock. She considers him for a moment longer before she says, “You know what it means to make a deal with Lucifer, Dan: it means that you are placing your trust in him. If you think he’ll be able to do this, then what is it that you need from me, exactly?”

A shaky sigh passes through his lips and he shrugs. “Someone to help me make sense of what I’m going through, I guess? I don’t know if that’s the right answer.”

“There are no wrong answers, Dan. If that’s what you need, then I think we’re off to a great start.” She stands up and he automatically does the same. She walks him to the door and stops before opening it. “One thing I wanted to ask, and I don’t know why I didn’t say something earlier but—can he,” she lowers her voice, “—can he hear us, right now?”

That gets a good laugh from Dan. He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think it works like that. He said something about it having to do with conviction—I think that’s why he referred to it as prayer.”

“Oh, well I guess that makes sense. How do you do it?”

Dan side steps a bit. “I’m not really sure but I have a theory. Are you religious? I mean—were you religious _before_ you uh, before you found out?”

She scoffs, “Not at all! I come from a whole family of psychiatrists—everything is a construct of the mind—but _oh man_ , let me tell you, it’s kind of exciting knowing that they got it all wrong!” The doctor laughs and then clears her throat. “I’m—I’m sorry. Sometimes I still get a little anxious whenever I’m reminded of, well, you know.”

He grins and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s gonna be hitting me in more waves, too.”

“So, what’s your theory?”

“Well, I was raised Catholic. And you know, when you’re a child being taught to pray—you are made to believe that someone is actually _listening_. My theory is that somewhere deep down, while I was thinking about Lucifer, I _was_ actually praying to him, because I wanted so much for him to hear what I had to say.”

Linda nods slowly. “You were accessing the part of your brain that remembered how to reach out through the act of prayer—you were focusing on projecting your thoughts. That makes a lot of sense. You know, there’ve been several case studies on unique brainwave patterns that occur during prayer. It’s actually a form of mental conditioning that requires years of practice—not everyone can do it.”

“Lucky me,” Dan says softly.

She reaches for the door. “If I were you, I’d take full advantage of it.”

“And why’s that?”

Leaning in, she says quietly, “How many people do you know who can honestly say their prayers get answered?”

“Does it still count if it’s the Devil who answers them?” he asks in an equally hushed voice.

Linda grins secretively, “I think you know.” She opens the door, her voice going back to normal volume, “Same time next week?”

“Sounds good,” Dan replies pleasantly. Then his face relaxes into a more sober expression. “Thanks, Linda. I mean it.”

She smiles. “Have a good night, Dan.”

“You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The information that Linda gives about the studies done on how prayer looks in terms of brain patterns is real--something I learned a while ago that I thought was absolutely fascinating. I'm glad I could incorporate it here.
> 
> Chapter 8 should be out later today--and it's the longest chapter so far, but oh man, I really had too much fun writing it. I'm excited to share it with you all!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan has some thinking to do. He ends up having a very enlightening conversation with a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH I AM SORRY THIS IS LATE.
> 
> I had quite the long afternoon/evening and I wasn't able to get back to doing one last read-through until much later than expected. I promise this chapter should be worth the wait. At least I hope it is!

After his session, Dan goes to the gym for ninety minutes. He thinks about what Linda said—about taking full advantage of his unique situation. When he gets his adrenaline up, he thinks it’s pretty awesome—like it’s a super power.

During his cool down, however, he reevaluates that notion and tries to think about it more seriously.

What was it _really_ that made Lucifer hear him? He told Dan it was conviction, and that his thoughts had been loud. Dan didn’t even put his hands together once, so clearly, that was just some sort of formality.

But was there more to it than that?

Dan recalls the first time he was subjected to Lucifer’s mind trick. He remembers that he actually surprised him by resisting at first. His gut tells him it wasn’t the only time that he resisted something otherworldly, but Dan has no frame of reference for that feeling, and still, for some reason, it brings a shiver down his spine. But maybe, maybe that has something to do with it.

He rolls the thoughts around in his mind all the way to the shower in the men’s changing room.

As he rinses off, the sound of the water drowns the outside noises. He feels the phantom twinge of exertion that sings through his muscles while the hot water soothes over him. Gradually, he drifts into a mental quiet place.

He thinks of one of the last times he felt truly happy. His heart begins to ache and a new idea begins to take shape.

What if…Lucifer isn’t the only one he can pray to?

Dan switches off the shower and towels off as he walks back to his locker.

After getting dressed and hopping back in his car, he decides to grab a sandwich and head up to a place he hasn’t visited in months. The last time he was here, it was the scene of a murder.

He makes his way up the winding hill through Griffith Park, all the way out to an overlook that offers a beautiful view of the city, complete with a bench built for two, adjacent to a tree that provides ample shade in the late spring.

The grass is green. There are no bloodstains.

He was hungry earlier, but now that he’s here, he abandons his dinner on the dashboard and steps outside.

Dan’s throat starts to feel thick. An invisible pressure starts weighing on his chest. He breathes roughly through his nose and sniffs. He clears an obstruction from the corner of his eye with the heel of his palm.

With hesitant steps, he makes his way to the bench and plummets down hard, ignoring the pain that hits him in the tailbone when he lands wrong on the flat stone beneath him.

His blue eyes are glassy and he’s refusing to blink—if he does now, he’ll—.

Dan begins to sob quietly.

He looks down at his hands, his memory makes him see blood shining on his fingers—her blood.

He wasted so much time trying to give her space. So much time he could have spent getting to know her more deeply. So much time he could have spent showing her how much she mattered.

He thinks about her all the time, but this time, he thinks about what she made him feel—what she _still_ makes him feel. He takes that, focuses on it, his breath shaky. He holds on to it, holds on to every smile she graced him with, every time he made her laugh, every time she looked at him like she was grateful he was there.

Dan looks skyward. The stars hang motionless against the night.

_Charlotte…I miss you._

~*~

He remains on the bench for a long time, thinking.

He still wishes she would have told him what she was up to. Then maybe he could have done something, maybe things would be different now.

At the very least, he still finds comfort in what Amenadiel told him, that she was in a better place. And now that Dan knows the truth about Heaven and Hell, he knows that his friend wasn’t just being kind.

A new sense of thankfulness washes over him then, realizing the gravity of what Amenadiel had said. It wasn’t just like he knew Heaven was real, it was like…it was like he spoke with personal sincerity—like he could have proven it if Dan had asked him to.

He suddenly starts to take stock of all the little things—about Amenadiel’s weird family ties, about his consistently gentle, exceedingly pious perspective on the world, his sometimes naïve impressions of others, his mildly antiquated way of speaking.

All of it lines right up. The man really is an honest to God—.

 _(Whoosh)_ “—Dan?”

Dan glances over his shoulder once, twice, spins upright and stumbles into a standing position. “Oh my god, that—hah—wow. I was _not_ expecting you to—where did—how did you get here?”

Amenadiel furrows his brow, though there is a slight edge of humor to his expression. “How did you think?” He flexes his shoulders and another _whoosh_ sound follows along with a giant set of steel grey wings.

Dan’s eyes widen and he jerks his head back. “Jesus!”

The angel tucks his wings back into wherever they hide and rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time people confused us.” He frowns, looking at Dan. “Have you always been able to do that?”

“Do what?” Dan asks, blinking.

“Pray to the divine like that. I didn’t even think you knew the truth.”

“I—I didn’t—not until Friday, at least. I’m still new at this, I guess? I wasn’t actually trying to pray to you—not that I wouldn’t—I mean, you’re my friend—but I,” he sighs and sniffs, glancing down at the dirt before flicking his gaze back up to the angel across from him. “I was actually trying to reach Charlotte.”

Amenadiel raises his brow and nods slowly. “I see. Well, um,” he looks away and clears his throat. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but…it doesn’t work that way between those on Earth and those who have crossed over. Prayer can only be heard by celestials.”

Dan nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “Yeah, I kinda figured that.”

An all-too-familiar, warm and soft smile spreads on Amenadiel’s face. “For what it’s worth, she knows how much you love her, Dan. She loves you, too.”

Hearing those words makes Dan’s heart hurt so much he swears he can actually feel it tighten in his chest. He scrunches his brow and fights back the urge to break down in tears. Roughly, he says, “Thanks.”

Amenadiel clears his throat, sensing the need to shift the subject. He knows better than to rush to Dan’s side and embrace him—Dan is a man who prefers to keep things moving. The angel sticks his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and tilts his head casually. “So, you mentioned that you were new at this. What did you mean by that?”

Dan’s heart is pounding. His nerves are full of tension. His stomach growls to remind him that feeding himself might help to calm him the fuck down. He takes a deep breath and lets it out through his mouth. He gestures towards his car. “You mind if we carry this conversation inside?”

“No, no, not at all.”

They get in at the same time, and the moment the doors are shut, the immediate hush that fills the space of the car is loud and awkward. There’s a pause, and then Dan grunts and grabs his sandwich from the dash. “Hey man, sorry, you mind if I get some food in me? I mean it might help me to—.”

“—oh no, yeah, sure, go ahead.”

Dan chows down—faster than he meant to—and exhales through his nose in silent relief. It tastes amazing. He’s probably in a mild state of shock (no surprise there).

Several minutes of chewing sounds and wax paper crinkling pass idly by.

Dan wipes his face, leans back in his seat, and sighs. “Thanks, was hungrier than I thought. Anyway,” he clears his throat, “I uh…did it with Lucifer first—I mean—I _prayed_ to him first. But I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. And he didn’t show up like you did. He showed up in my dreams.”

“Oh,” Amenadiel says thoughtfully, nodding. “Well that’s one way to do it. Seems a little old fashioned for Luci, but, I suppose it makes sense—under the circumstances.”

That statement makes Dan’s mind spark with a sudden idea. Maybe Amenadiel can tell him what the fuck happened at the Mayan and why Lucifer seems so against the idea of leaving Hell even for a moment.

Playing it cool, Dan says carefully, “Yeah, I thought he hated it down there.”

Amenadiel glances at him and nods. “Oh, he does. Up until very recently, my sworn task was to make sure he stayed down there, no matter how many times he managed to escape.”

Unable to help himself, Dan shoots back, “Why would you do that if you knew he hated it so much?”

“Because it’s his _job_ , Dan,” Amenadiel says, his voice raising. “He has his responsibility and I have mine.” He sighs and shakes his head.

Dan knows a broken record when he hears it. He’s not the first person Amenadiel has had to try and justify this to. That knowledge is interesting, but Dan doesn’t know how to use it, so he files it away for later.

Trying to keep the conversation moving, he nods, “Right, right, I get that. But what’s changed? You said he used to escape all the time and now he won’t leave?”

That pulls the angel to look at Dan and his brow knits together. “How much do you know about what happened at the amphitheater?”

Dan raises his brow, trying not to get his hopes up, “At the Mayan? Not a Go—not a damn thing, man. It’s like I told you; everything’s changed since that night and I have no idea why. Since you know that I _know_ now, maybe you can tell me what the hell went down?”

Amenadiel’s lips purse into a curled shape, like he’s thinking really hard. He takes a deep breath and exhales it through his nostrils. He gives a firm nod. “Yes, I believe I can.”

Sometimes, the big man’s manner of speaking makes Dan feel a little impatient. He bears it willingly this time and smiles. “Great, so…lay it on me.”

The angel opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and then turns to him and says, “Do you know of any bars in the neighborhood? You’re going to need a drink.”

~*~

On the way down the hill, Amenadiel explains the rules of Hell—how it can only be run by an angel, and how Lucifer had originally banned demonic possession centuries ago. He goes on to talk about Eve getting involved in business she didn’t fully understand and how Father Kinley became possessed by a demon.

Dan listens quietly. He concentrates on the road.

Amenadiel tells him about Lucifer turning down demon-Kinley when asked to return as king, and that that is how a rebellion got started and all those people wound up murdered so demons could possess their bodies.

There is a bar right at the bottom of the hill—small and quiet-looking. The entire time, Dan hasn’t said a word.

When they get inside, he thumbs towards the seats, silently suggesting he’ll find them a place to sit. Amenadiel nods, pointing to the bar wordlessly conveying that he’ll grab drinks.

While Dan waits, his mind takes the opportunity to suggest panicking (again). Suddenly, all of this is starting to sound weirder than it has over the last few days. It’s unsettling to think about a demonic uprising springing up overnight without anyone—save a precious few—knowing about any of it. He’s starting to think he understands why Lucifer is afraid.

Amenadiel returns with a few beers. Dan drinks down half of his in one go. The angel eyes him steadily for a moment and then asks, “Are you alright, Dan?”

He flicks his gaze up from staring at his bottle and nods, “Yeah.”

“You’re taking all of this awfully well.”

“You know, that’s what Linda said, too. Guess I’m just special.”

Amenadiel narrows his gaze at him. “Does knowing more about the situation help you come to terms with it?”

Dan chuckles and points at him while taking a sip of his beer. “Now you really _are_ starting to sound like Linda.”

A small smile flashes across the angel’s face and then he resumes his curious look. “Seriously though, is what I’m saying helping you?”

He looks down for a moment and then nods more thoughtfully. “I think so, yeah.”

Amenadiel’s smile widens to a very self-satisfied grin. “Then I think you just helped me win a little bet I had going with myself.”

Dan creases his brow, “How’s that?”

“You see, I used to think that revealing divinity to humans was wrong. I still don’t believe it’s wise to do for just anyone. But, I’ve recently come to the conclusion that in certain circumstances, should an individual experience the divine, it is actually better for them to be welcomed into the knowledge as opposed to trying to make them forget about it, because that can actually do more harm than good. It was the same for Charlotte when she learned the—.”

“—Wait, Charlotte knew?” Dan cuts in.

Suddenly, his mind makes connections. He recalls when Charlotte told him about her nightmares and how her memory lapse had felt like _Hell_. He remembers how different her personality before and after the incident at the pier had been. He never forgot that right before she woke up on the beach, she’d said to him that he was her favorite _human_. And if he’s really honest with himself, the sex before and after _did_ feel like he’d slept with two totally different people.

_Oh no…_

Dan bursts out, “Did I—,” he stops himself, swears under his breath and leans in, whispering harshly, “Was Charlotte possessed? Did I sleep with a literal demon?”

Amenadiel has been patiently observing Dan, letting him work through his thoughts. When he’s asked that question, however, his austere demeanor breaks and he laughs. “Oh no, not in the _slightest._ ”

Dan leans back and rubs his face, sighing. “Well, I guess that’s a relief.”

If he _had_ fallen in love with a demon and then somehow ended up also loving the woman who was possessed, only to later hook up with the _actual_ Devil (and wonder about the feelings developing there), then there could be a weird pattern evolving and Dan was going to have to seriously consider taking his therapy in a different direction.

He takes a drink and notices that Amenadiel has gone quiet all of a sudden. Dan can see him desperately trying not to _blush_. He sets his beer down. “So then who was she?”

“Oh, no, it’s not really imp—.”

“— _Dude_ ,” Dan interrupts, smiling. “You’re looking at me like you just walked in on your parents—,” he freezes.

Amenadiel raises his beer to his lips and takes a long, slow drink.

He leans forward, threading his fingers through his hair, “Oh my God.”

It was bad enough when he was told that Charlotte was Lucifer and Amenadiel’s stepmom—but he’d sort of forgotten about that when her whole personality changed. But now that he knows what he knows…

“ _Oh my God_ ,” he repeats more earnestly. His eyes flick up to Amenadiel. “Did I sleep with your mom? Your _real_ mom? Was she an ang—?”

“The Goddess of all Creation, actually,” Amenadiel corrects swiftly.

Dan slides his hands over his face, muffling, “ _OH MY_ _GOD!”_ into his palms.

Amenadiel’s smooth, calming voice says, “Dan, it’s fine. If you’re worried about me being uncomfortable with it, I got over that a long time ago. It’s really alright.”

Dan mumbles something angrily into his hands.

“I’m sorry, Dan, what did you say?”

Dan pushes his hands up to his forehead, keeping his eyes fixed on the table below him. “I can’t believe I slept with a mother _and_ her son. My life has become a porno.”

“What did you—you _slept_ with _Luci?_ My brother? Dan!”

He finally looks up at the angel, grimaces. “I’m sorry. Shit! Is this weird? This is weird, isn’t it?”

Amenadiel stares at him in utter astonishment for a moment longer, and then draws in a deep breath and leans back against the booth, his face relaxing. “It is. But, as the popular saying amongst your kind goes, ‘You’re only human’.” He holds up his bottle to toast Dan.

The frankness in his tone eases the tension and gets Dan to huff a small laugh. He leans forward and toasts his friend and they each take a drink.

But of course, Amenadiel has to ask, “When did that even happen? I know my brother can be persuasive but I thought you hated him.”

Dan raises his brow. “I thought I did, too. I dunno, I still do, kinda. It just happened over the weekend—but I guess it only half counts, maybe?”

Amenadiel frowns. “You mean you and him, uh,” he pauses and then twirls his hand outwards, “when he visited you in your dreams?”

“Yeah, ah-huh,” Dan says quickly. He furrows his brow. “Does that still count?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, it was all in my head—but it felt _so_ _real_ , but—was it?”

“Oh,” Amenadiel nods, “Well,” he clears his throat, “Uh, yes. When we visit humans in their sleep we permeate their subconscious to such a degree that there is no misunderstanding about them receiving the message we’re supposed to deliver. When they wake up, they remember the visitation like it happened in the waking world, not the dreaming one.”

Dan draws in his lower lip in thought. He nods, more to himself than to the man across from him. “Yeah, that tracks.” His eyes widen. “I certainly remember it like I wasn’t dreaming.”

The tension that had ebbed away begins to flow back in as silence falls between them. People are chatting at the bar. A digital jukebox is playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. A pool cue cracks against a set of pool balls. Both men are staring off in different directions.

Amenadiel breaks the silence first. “Sooo, you and my brother,” he nods slowly.

Dan gives him a look. “C’mon, man, it’s not like I set out to sleep with your whole family on purpose.” Amenadiel raises his brow. Dan gapes, “Look, I’m as surprised as you are!”

“You know, Chloe is a miracle,” Amenadiel says offhandedly.

“I’m sorry, _what?”_

The angel nods and finishes off his drink, saying rapidly, “I want another beer—do you want another beer?”

Dan reaches out as if to grab his arm but stops short of doing so. “Hold on.” He stares at Amenadiel incredulously, “Are you serious right now?”

He sighs. “I was tasked with blessing Chloe’s mother so that she could give birth to her. It was my Father’s will that she be put in Lucifer’s path, though I didn’t know that at the time.”

Dan leans back slowly and settles against the wall of the booth. He’s still got a dubious expression on his face. Without looking at the angel, he says distantly, “Maybe something stronger this time.”

Amenadiel gives a single nod and goes straight away to the bar counter, leaving Dan to stew with this new information.

A few minutes pass and the big man sits back down, bearing two drinks, one is pink with a lemon peel garnish, the other looks like a double whiskey on the rocks, which Amenadiel pushes towards Dan.

His eyes dart down at the unassuming drink and he takes a sip, staring into the golden brown liquid like it’s somehow supposed to help him make sense of everything he’s heard tonight.

He looks up at the man across from him. “Do I have a sign on my face that says, ‘Open for Divine and Demonic Business’? Like, is there a word for someone who’s a magnet for all things not human?”

Amenadiel points at him. “First, no, there is no sign on your head or a word for what you’re describing. Second, Chloe _is_ human. It’s just that she was created by divine intervention.”

Dan takes another sip and holds out his free hand. “Right, but I mean, it can’t be a coincidence that _I’m_ the one who married her—had a child with her—and then went on to befriend a demon, an angel, slept with _the_ Goddess of all Creation, and then ended up sleeping with her son, who, oh by the way, happens to be _the Devil!”_

Amenadiel sheepishly takes a sip of his cosmo and shrugs. “When you put it like that, it does sound pretty unusual.”

“That’s one word for it,” Dan shoots back. He sighs, “Alright, I gotta ask, cause it’s gonna bug me if I don’t. You said that Chloe was intentionally put in Lucifer’s path. Are you saying that she was made for him?”

Amenadiel sees the fretful look in Dan’s eyes. He licks his lower lip and gently replies, “I never used to question my Father’s commands, but,” he chuckles softly, “my time here on Earth has made me start to see things more like Luci does. What I mean by that is that I don’t know exactly what my Father’s intentions are. Chloe does make Lucifer physically vulnerable when he’s near her, but I believe that the two of them falling in love with each other happened naturally, regardless of whatever God has in store for them.”

While that information hurts (on several levels), it does explain practically _everything_ that Dan has been trying to figure out for the last few years. Like when Lucifer would _sometimes_ be wounded, and _sometimes_ seem impervious to physical damage. And Chloe had always been guarded about her real feelings on Lucifer, but deep down, Dan thinks he knew she was in love with him, that they were more than partners.

It was pretty fucking obvious that Lucifer was doing his damndest to get in her pants in the beginning. But it did transform into something more serious over time, even he could see that, because he had been there before.

Dan still loves Chloe—always will—but he’s grateful that he made peace a long time ago with the fact that they were no longer right for each other. He knows it’s what made him ready to fall in love with Charlotte; he was open to it and welcomed it easily.

His mind circles back to thoughts of Lucifer and suddenly, everything feels more complicated again. He’s hurt by the idea that he feels like a rebound, which means that he had begun to feel something for Lucifer—and that realization is somehow way more staggering than everything else he’s learned over the last four days.

Then, a new thought pops into Dan’s head, and before he can analyze it, he asks Amenadiel, “Is God really all-seeing and all-knowing?”

The angel gives him a blank stare. “You mean does my Father know what you’ve done and who you’ve done it with?” Dan gives him shifty eyes. Amenadiel smiles, “Do you really want to know?”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

He laughs deeply. “If you’re wondering if you’re going to get struck by lightning, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I have faith that my Father has a plan for us all, but I don’t think it’s what you think it is.”

Dan pulls his head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I believe God’s plan is to have everyone make their own choices. In the beginning, humans needed more direct divine guidance, but I know now that it was just to get the ball rolling. Humanity has existed long enough that, for the most part, it runs on its own steam. What you do with your life is entirely of your own free will. It’s only when your soul leaves this realm that divinity will step in to sort out where you belong afterwards.”

Dan narrows his gaze at him. “How is it that you can tell me all of this and not, I don’t know, get in trouble for spilling celestial secrets?”

Amenadiel raises his brow as he takes a sip of his drink. “Well, for one, I trust you not to go to CNN and tell the whole world what you know. But honestly, it all comes down to how my brother chose to handle it. As a general rule, people don’t want to be bothered with things they can’t understand, so they find ways to justify brushing them off.”

Dan nods, sipping his whiskey. “Right, Lucifer tells everyone he’s the Devil, and it works because he doesn’t have to lie and this is L.A., people like him exist everywhere.” He smirks, “You know, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve met people who claimed they were impossible things or other people and I just brushed it off as talk.”

“Exactly! People will either think you’re crazy, or they’ll ignore it and move on. Like I said, I still don’t think it’s wise to spread the knowledge around. It’s important for humans to believe in whatever _they choose to believe in_ ; otherwise their free will is taken away.”

Suddenly, Dan grows quiet. He frowns and asks gravely, “What about those of us who know the truth? Does it change the outcome?”

Amenadiel gives him a thoughtful look. “It simply means that you have a responsibility to treat the knowledge with greater respect because you know more than most.”

Upon hearing that, for the first time tonight, Dan feels genuinely more at ease. Somehow, knowing that it’s still up to him to make good decisions is reassuring. He realizes that he was starting to think that he had no control over his own life.

But if it still matters how he chooses to do things, then maybe he can use his knowledge to do better not only for himself, but for others around him. With that in mind, a new idea begins to take shape.

He thinks he knows better how to treat his situation with Lucifer, and for once, he’s not afraid to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked this chapter. It was a blast to write!
> 
> I plan to have chapter nine up by next Saturday. But if I don't, it's because I'm finishing my semester like a good student, lol. Enjoy your week everyone!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude. Working on the current case. Chloe's up to something...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter moves smoothly for everyone. I dunno if you are enjoying the crime element in this or not, but I swear it's only gonna get weirder/more interesting as the story progresses. I've got huge plans, mwahaha!

As much as Dan wants to keep talking with Amenadiel, he has to take his leave around nine-thirty, since he is pretty beat and he works another morning shift the following day. Privately, he is also feeling a little eager to get home for …other reasons, as well.

Once he makes it to his apartment, he quickly readies himself for bed. He shuts off the light. He slips beneath the covers, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, and lets out a big sigh as he settles down, letting his mind decompress from the day’s events.

He can scarcely believe how much has happened in the last few days.

As strange as it is, he is _so_ looking forward to spending tomorrow morning with Chloe going over possible rival construction companies while they wait for a warrant on those shipping containers. He needs some mundane grunt work to balance out the mindfuck of the last few days.

Chloe…

Maybe it isn’t going to be so easy to see her tomorrow. It was already starting to bug him that he hasn’t been able to talk to her about what happened to him. And now, having it basically confirmed that she has been heartbroken over Lucifer for the past month makes things even more awkward.

What the Hell can he even say to her?

_‘Sorry your not-boyfriend ditched you to protect the world from a demon invasion. By the way, how do I know about that? Well, it’s a funny story, actually…’_

Dan wonders if Lucifer can hear her thoughts, if he knows what she’s been going through, if it’s been its own sort of torture for him. Perhaps that’s why he was so agreeable in the beginning to visit Dan—maybe it’s his own way of distracting himself from being in pain.

Lucifer _had_ said that he was using him, too.

Whatever. Dan can deal with being the guy on the side; he’s mature enough to understand that this is a complicated situation. He just wishes that he could matter a bit more than being comfort food for the Devil.

Dan chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

Despite everything that he’s learned tonight, he’s still finding himself interested in seeing Lucifer again, if for no other reason than to find out how he intends to help him work through his issues—if that’s even still on the table.

There is a sliver of doubt that has been secretly stretching in the back of Dan’s mind since Sunday morning. He hasn’t wanted to take it out and properly examine it for what it is, but he decides to do so now.

He did not forget that they had made a deal. But, even so, Dan’s been afraid that because there weren’t any terms set, no plans made, he wonders just how real the agreement actually is. What if Lucifer just went with it to appease him? That doesn’t really seem like something he’d do, but Dan can’t stop worrying about it.

Even though he knows it’s totally unnecessary, Dan rolls onto his side, closes his eyes, and laces his fingers together in front of his chest. For the first time, he actively concentrates on praying to Lucifer.

Out of habit, it starts off rather similar to how he used to pray when he was younger. He asks for guidance and for strength, only to realize after a few moments that who he is trying to speak to can hear him quite plainly, and he doesn’t need to be so vague and formal.

Instead, Dan lets his heart do the talking, like his mother had taught him. _‘If you don’t know what to say or how to say it, just be quiet and let your heart be your voice. It knows what to do.’_

Dan thinks about how all of what he’s learned over the past few days has affected him—for better and for worse. He directs those feelings to Lucifer, doing his best to be honest and transparent about all of it. He wants him to understand what he’s been going through, make him see what a head trip it’s been for him. But he also wants to make it clear that he’s not afraid.

After some time, all the while still praying, Dan works himself into a drowsy state of mind. He doesn’t fight it, and slips beneath consciousness quite easily.

~*~

Unnaturally warm skin presses against the back of Dan’s body. Long, slender fingers snake over his hip and slide low across his abdomen, pulling him backwards. He breathes out a contented sigh and instinctively laces his own fingers with the ones touching him.

He thinks he feels hot breath against the back of his ear.

A deep voice breaks the hush of the room. “You’re a lot more than just comfort food to me.”

Lips press gently against the back of his head, and then a bristly cheek nuzzles in against the crook of his neck, followed by a soft intake of breath and a light exhale.

Dan wants to say something back. He thinks he mumbles something, but sleep reels him back into pleasant blackness before he can formulate any further thought.

~*~

Dan is jolted from sleep by the sound of a car alarm.

The good news is that he knows it sounds nothing like his own car. The bad news is that it’s almost an hour before his phone alarm is supposed to go off.

Thankfully, the blaring horn and the laser sounds (he has no idea what else to call them), stop almost as soon as they start, which means it’s most likely just a neighbor who accidentally triggered their own alarm.

Still, he throws back the blankets and makes it to the window by his front door and peeks out of his blinds to see what the situation is. It’s as he suspected. A woman, clutching way too many things with both arms, struggles to opens her trunk with her key fob.

Dan sighs and walks back to his bedroom. He stops suddenly when he gets to the doorway. He looks at where he’d been sleeping in his bed. From the looks of the disarray of the sheets and his pillow, he was sleeping on one end of the bed.

He _always_ sleeps in the center. He’s not much of a mover in his sleep, and the only times he’s ever on one end is when he’s sharing it with—.

A flood of sensation comes back to him. His hand slides around the back of his head, rubbing softly at the spot where he remembers Lucifer planting a kiss.

_‘You’re a lot more than just comfort food to me.’_

That did _not_ feel like a dream.

Dan gulps, staring at his bed like he can will the moment from last night back into existence. But nothing changes, and he’s starting to feel a chill, since it’s still so early and he hadn’t actually been ready to get out of bed yet.

He decides to slip back beneath the sheets into the same spot he’d been in and lies on his back. He grabs for his phone—he’s still got like forty minutes before he actually has to get up. He could try and sleep a bit longer, but really, the damage has already been done thanks to the neighbor’s car alarm: Dan is wide awake.

His mind drifts to what he remembers about the night before. He can’t be sure, but he begins to suspect that Lucifer really appeared to him, even though it was only for a moment. If that’s true, then it’s both flattering and fucking unfair.

He understands now why Lucifer has been so hesitant to come back. It doesn’t change the fact that it still feels like a tease—which, honestly, Dan finds just the tiniest bit arousing.

And just like that, hardwired biology steps in and Dan’s got a serious case of morning wood.

He’s got some time; why not make the best of it?

Dan reaches down and takes his dick in his hand, closing his eyes. This time, he doesn’t even hesitate to conjure up images of him and Lucifer and decides to just run with it, see what his imagination comes up with.

Immediately his mind supplies the setting, like it was one step ahead of him.

 _They’re in the elevator at Lux. They’ve got their hands all over each other, kissing feverishly. They’re both wearing tuxedos._ It’s an unexpected detail, but Dan rolls with it.

He draws in his lower lip and exhales sharply through his nose. He increases his pace a little.

_The lift doors open and they make their way outside to the parking garage. He presses Lucifer up against a concrete wall, rifling with one hand to get their belts undone, fisting his fingers through Lucifer’s hair with the other._

_A deep chuckle escapes the Devil’s throat._

Dan can almost hear him and it makes him draw in his breath. He moves faster.

_Their pants are dangling around their ankles. Dan gives Lucifer’s cock a few squeezes and then steps back long enough to pull him away from the wall, jerk him around, and push him onto his back against the hood of the Corvette._

A groan slips past Dan’s lips. He’s already getting close. He slows down, simultaneously making it more intense on himself but making it easier to control.

_Lucifer protests the blatant abuse of his car. Dan leans forward and growls at him to try and stop him. Then he kisses him, almost painfully, and gets both of Lucifer’s legs over his shoulders._

_He pushes forward. They both moan, loudly, not giving a damn if anyone sees or hears them. He starts thrusting, hitting just the right spot, making Lucifer cry out his name in that filthy way he loves so fucking much._

Dan has sped up his pace without even realizing it. It feels so good. Too good. He gasps, squeezing his eyes shut.

_He’s digging his nails into Lucifer’s hips as he rocks forward. Lucifer is panting, his hands are spread out at his sides, pressed against the hood of the car so tightly his knuckles are turning white._

_Dan reaches for Lucifer’s cock again, begins stroking it, getting the other man to hitch his breathing. He looks down at him, stares directly into his eyes, watching the strain in them, fighting to keep from being first to reach that peak, almost like it’s a damn contest. Arrogant sonofabitch._

_He leans forward and snarls at Lucifer to come, demands it, even. Lucifer breathes heavily through his nostrils and then snaps forward, reaching up and pulling Dan into a rough kiss, invariably bringing their bodies closer together._

_The shift in sensation pushes them both over the edge. They groan into each other’s mouths, the sudden rush pulsing through them at nearly the same instant._

A guttural sound tears through Dan’s mouth, his own release hitting him so hard his vision whites out for a second, his body tenses all over.

He grabs some tissues from his nightstand and cleans up, then collapses back in his bed with a shaking sigh, feeling utterly spent but glad to be that way.

As Dan comes down, he smiles and he knows the look on his face must be really dopey-looking right now. He gets like that after a real good orgasm—especially morning ones, for some reason. Chloe used to tease him about it all the time, telling him he looked stoned.

It occurs to him then that while he had dream-sex with Lucifer twice over the weekend, thanks to his bitter mood he’s been in lately, he hasn’t jacked off in, like, a week, and it’s been a few months since he last had _actual_ sex. No wonder he got so worked up so fast.

He gets about fifteen minutes of cool down time before his phone alarm goes off. With only a little hesitation, he hops out of bed and starts his day.

~*~

Dan is just getting settled at his desk when Chloe strolls up to him, carrying a tray with two coffees from the fancy cafe down the street—he recognizes the logo. He glances at the time (7:08am) and smiles when she hands him one of the drinks. “Hey. You’re here early.”

She smiles back. “I called in a favor to Maze and asked her to drop Trixie off at school, thought it’d be good to stay on track with you since we’re working this case together.”

It takes all the energy Dan can muster (it’s way too early to be doing that) for him to not make a quip about letting a demon drive their kid to school. Maybe someday they could actually laugh about such a thing together. Right now, it’s too new, too weird, and work is the last place he should open _that_ can of worms.

Instead, he opts for heartfelt. “I’m glad you guys have patched things up,” then adds wryly (for appearances sake), “I’m sure Trixie is stoked to have her knife-wielding-psycho best friend hanging around again.”

Chloe snickers and sips her coffee. “She’s your knife-wielding psycho friend, too, isn’t she?”

He leans back in his chair, takes a sip. His coffee has almond milk, cinnamon, and a shot of macadamia nut flavoring in it—his favorite. He’s caught off guard: Chloe hasn’t done a gesture like this for him in quite a while.

He shrugs and replies, “I mean, I dunno if I’d call what we are _friends_ ,” (he’s lying through his teeth of course), “but yeah, I guess we have a good working relationship. She’s helped me out more times than I can count.”

“Yeah, me too. So, have you gotten started yet?”

“Nah, I was just about to dig in. You want to grab a chair?”

Chloe gives him a look. “You know, my desk has _way_ better lighting.”

Dan smirks. “Yeah, but mine has _way_ less foot-traffic.”

“Says the bridge troll under the stairs,” she snorts.

He holds out his hands to either side, “Hey, this is a prime locale: no one bothers me, it’s fairly quiet, _and_ I actually have more space than I did before.”

Chloe rolls her eyes at him, “Fine. You win this round,” and sets off to grab a chair.

He watches her walk away and his gaze narrows a little. She’s being awfully cute today. Something is _definitely_ up. Dan doesn’t know the endgame, but he’s curious to see where this goes. At the very least, it might make the day a little more interesting.

~*~

After a few hours, Chloe and Dan manage to narrow down their list to about a dozen different rival companies just in time for the warrant to arrive. They don’t waste another second, and hop in Dan’s car (Chloe offered to let him drive this time).

When they get to the warehouse, Dan is both relieved to not see a body suspended in a makeshift chain-web and also surprised that he half-expected it to still be there.

He’s actually curious as to how the in the Hell they managed to get it down without disrupting the remains too much. He imagines the scene as being oddly comical, like some sort of horror movie parody, and takes a deep gulp of his coffee to stave off chuckling. Boy, his mind is in a weird place this morning.

He and Chloe leave their coffees in the car. Dan retrieves a set of bolt cutters from his trunk. They walk past the bloodstained pavement slowly, scanning the area, even though it’s already been swept.

As they approach the three shipping containers, they stop and stare. He looks at her and shrugs. “Divide and conquer or one at a time together?”

She licks her lower lip and scrutinizes the boxes, “One at a time.”

Dan nods and dutifully walks up to the closest one, snapping the lock. He wrenches it off and they each take a door and open them outward. The inside is packed tightly with drywall. There _could_ be something hiding in there, but just by the positioning of the drywall, it seems doubtful.

“Door number two?” he asks. She nods. The second one looks to be exactly the same—more drywall. They both frown. She takes the bolt cutters out of his hands and marches over to the third one.

Upon opening it, they are rewarded with dozens and dozens of narrow cardboard boxes—all unlabeled. Chloe turns to him, beaming, “Third time’s a charm,” and steps inside the container.

He smiles and then creases his brow. He loves it when she gets like this, all smug and confident. But damn if it’s not sending Dan some real mixed messages. _Later_ , he tells himself.

Pulling him from his musings, she calls out, “Hey, come look at this.”

In a purple-gloved hand, she holds up an object that was inside one of the boxes. It’s a tile. Like, a decorative tile you’d see as an accent in a bathroom or above a fireplace—except its _way_ too fancy-looking for its own good.

Dan slips a glove on and takes the tile in his hand for a closer look. “Are those…diamonds?”

“I think so, and I’m not sure but that looks like pearl, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…and there’s abalone shell here, too. I’m willing to bet the tile itself is marble.” He thinks about the black marble bar counter that’s in the penthouse.

“What do you think something like this is worth?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “No clue, but there’s a _lot_ of stones on here—that can’t be cheap.”

Chloe starts opening other boxes and reaching inside. “From the amount of padding, I think there are about five tiles to a box.”

Dan’s eyes scan across the interior. There’s got to be at least fifty more boxes of the same size in here. The walls of the container have been reinforced with padding and there are giant rolls of bubble wrap resting between the boxes to prevent them from moving around.

He thinks about why McMillan would lawyer up over something like this. Ella had said that once she could get a clear view of the invoice, the contents were listed simply as, ‘Building materials’ and the insurance on the containers was standard rate.

“Maybe this isn’t about a rival company,” he says softly.

“We need to get one of these back to the lab,” Chloe says.

He nods. “And post someone out front. I can’t imagine James McMillan would leave these unguarded for very long.”

~*~

Now that they have something a little more concrete (or marble, rather) to go on, the mood between them on the ride back to the precinct is less focused on work and more focused on casual chat.

When a dip in the conversation happens, Chloe swoops in with, “So, I was thinking…”

 _Here it comes_ , Dan thinks.

“I know a lot’s been going on—for both of us lately. But I get the feeling that we’ve both got it pretty under control now and I thought maybe, since we’re partners again, that we might want to do a little celebrating. You know, we haven’t done Taco Tuesday in a while, and I know it’d make Trixie really happy.”

Dan can only assume so far before he runs the risk of being totally wrong, but he thinks that he finally understands why she’s been avoiding him up until recently.

Chloe gets very paradoxical when it comes to handling feelings. She’s outspoken when she should be subtle, she’s awkward when she wants to be flirtatious, and she distances herself when what she really needs is closeness.

Lucifer leaving her behind probably made her afraid to reach out—and probably not just to Dan, but to everyone else close to her, too. Now it makes sense why she asked Maze to help out this morning and why she’s suddenly ready to invite him over for dinner tonight.

He’s been quiet a little too long and she glances at him with big, hopeful eyes. “So, what do you think?”

Dan grins, “Just so long as I get to make the salsa.”

“You _do_ make the best salsa,” she concedes.

“I can pick up Trixie if you want to grab the ingredients.”

“Yeah—if you don’t mind waiting a bit longer—she just joined an afterschool art club. The first meeting is today.”

He smiles, “Really? That’s awesome. How’d that happen?” Dan feels a bit upset that he didn’t already know his daughter was getting into something seriously enough to want to join a club for it.

Automatically, like she could sense it, Chloe touches his arm and allays his concerns. “She only just told _me_ about it last night. I’ll admit I was a bit annoyed she sprung it on me out of nowhere, but she insisted that her home room teacher had announced it as a late addition to the afterschool programs they’ve been doing.”

Dan huffs a laugh. “Not that I would dare step on our little girl’s dreams, but the hard question has to be asked: is this gonna cost us anything?”

Chloe tilts her head to the side, “I don’t think so,” she says slowly. “At least, well, the flyer Trix showed me didn’t have any fine print that would suggest otherwise.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Yeah,” Chloe scoffs.

Dan feels a little excited about getting to hear about Trixie’s first club experience. He feels like he’s missed out on so many important aspects of her life, especially in recent years, as he and Chloe’s marriage was falling apart.

He knows it’s not a race to see who can be the better parent. Still, he can’t help but feel thrilled whenever he gets the chance to be there for her first. It fills him with pride as much as it fills him with joy.

~*~

The rest of the morning sees Dan and Chloe up to their ears in a confusing mess of evidence.

No prints. No DNA. No security cameras inside the building and the two outside were dummy cams. There are always vehicles coming and going everywhere in the storage facility, so no distinct tire tracks had been found, either.

The most interesting bits they had to go on all came from the victim.

Diego Cortez’s fingernails had been professionally cleaned, which suggested that he’d gotten trace amounts of _something_ under his nails, but the killer was not only aware of this but also prepared to deal with it.

His toxicology and autopsy reports yielded peculiar results as well. As it turns out, Cortez was shot with a tranquilizer dart filled with heroin. The dart (while having left a tell-tale wound), had not been recovered. The heroin was standard street quality—not a unique variety that could be traced to a particular supplier. Interestingly, it was only used to sedate him. Actual cause of death was cervical fracture—a broken neck—done by hand.

Chloe and Dan are sitting across from each other, discussing the possibility that maybe this was a professional hit, when Ella rushes out of her lab. She’s wearing a dark blue shirt with little smiling shooting stars flying off to one side of the chest and shoulder. As pleasant as the shirt is, right now it’s clashing with the utterly bewildered look in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh, you guys—how many of those tiles did you say you found?”

The two of them look at each other for a moment and then back to Ms. Lopez. Dan shrugs, “We didn’t actually count them all, but we estimated it’s probably around a few hundred. Why?”

Impossibly, her eyes widen further and she tenses up. “H’OH…Uh, can we, um,” She says, jerking her head towards the lab.

They get up and follow after her. The moment Chloe closes the door; she ducks her head down, keeping her eyes on Ella. “Ok, so, what’s up? What’d you find?”

“Right, so,” she holds up the tile. “I’m holding a million dollars, in my hand, _right now_. I mean—obviously not a million dollars _cash_ , that wouldn’t fit in one hand—anyway. This bad boy, _by itself_ , retails at one million dollars, thanks to being crafted from black marble, inlaid with abalone, mother of pearl, and— _ninety-five_ diamonds!”

Dan and Chloe stare at Ella. Dan starts with, “So, you’re saying…”

“What’s in the shipping container is…” Chloe continues.

“Hundreds of millions of dollars in decorative tile,” Ella nods sharply.

“Shit,” Dan says softly.

Chloe raises her brow. “I’d certainly hire a hitman to take out anyone who discovered something like that.”

Ella shifts her stance. “Yeah, but, what kind of contract killer would leave a calling card like the body web?”

Dan frowns. “I’m sorry—‘The body web’?”

Ella shrugs at him uncertainly.

Chloe furrows her brow. “No, Ella’s right. Professionals don’t spend any longer at a scene than they have to. Something that elaborate would have taken at least a few hours—and for that to be a signature of some kind just seems too impractical and would definitely be a telling M.O. if it happened more than a few times.”

Dan nods. “And if the killer _was_ leaving a message on behalf of whoever hired them—it still doesn’t explain why it was done like, like _that_. I mean, of all the ways to get your point across…it doesn’t make sense.”

 _“Right?”_ Ella says.

“What about the heroin dart?” Chloe suggests. “Could that be a calling card?”

Ms. Lopez shakes her head. “First thing I did when I got the results back from the tox screen was run a search in the database—nada. What about McMillan?”

A long sigh escapes Dan’s mouth. “McMillan might be guilty over the ownership of the tiles—unless he can pull proof out of his ass that he was just being overly cautious with their transport. But as for the night of Cortez’s murder, he’s got an airtight alibi. He was at a hotel wedding reception all night. Several people tagged him in photos on their Instagram accounts.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and gives huff. “Well, we may not be making headway with the murder, but at least we have something else to pin on him.”

Ella tilts her head back and forth and frowns apologetically. “Yeah, I’m not so sure that’s going to be a piece of cake, either.”

“What do you mean,” Chloe asks.

“Diego Cortez was a contract security guard, right? He didn’t work for McMillanCorp or the shipyard; he was just stationed there that night. So the window of time for him to get caught discovering what was in the containers, having a hit put out on him, _and_ being killed all before his relief got there? It’s a stretch. Second, those tiles are sold exclusively by a retailer that has had regular business with McMillanCorp dating back ten years. I checked their ordering site. Let’s just say that while these babies are the crème de la crème, posh tiling is totally their main gig—it isn’t that unlikely that they’d show up in an order. So, even though McMillan was being totally shady about them, considering what they’re worth, he actually _could_ just be protecting a huge investment.”

“And I’ll bet that’s why he cried lawyer,” Chloe points out with a nod, “So he could keep that investment private.”

Dan sticks his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “In other words, we’re gonna need a warrant if we want to bring him in.”

Chloe turns on her heels to face Dan, pointing her chin up at him proudly. “Then that’s just what we’ll have to do.” She places a hand on his shoulder as she heads to the door. “I’ll get to work on the hitman angle—maybe there’s something we just haven’t seen yet. You go get that warrant.”

Dan grins, “Yes, ma’am.” Chloe flashes him a smile and heads out, leaving the door ajar. He hears a small, ‘awe’ and turns to see Ella smiling at him. “What?” he asks.

Ella shakes her head, her ponytail swishing behind her. “Nothing—it’s just nice to see you guys working together again. I mean,” she lowers her voice, “after Lucifer moved away, I dunno, it was weird. The gang kinda dissolved for a while. I’m just happy it looks like it’s finally on the mend.”

He realizes then that Ella has no clue what really happened, either. He wishes he could tell her. Now is not the time. And sadly, he’s not sure if or when it will ever be. It’s like Amenadiel had told him in the beginning, before he found out the truth: _‘it’s not my place to share that information.’_ He’s grateful, at least, that her sense of optimism has returned. It’s good that _someone_ in his immediate circle can be filled with hope. He needs that right now.

Dan smiles and says, “Yeah, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter will be up shortly! Just doing some fine-tuning before it gets uploaded.
> 
> OH! I totally forgot to mention that the tile that they find is a real thing--the description Ella gives is completely accurate, and it really does have 95 diamonds per tile. It just so happens its called "LuxTouch", a collaborative piece Pietra Firma and John Harwood Designs--fancy shmancy tile makers. Neat, huh?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After wrapping up at work, Dan goes to pick up Trixie. He arrives early and decides to take a nap. Naturally, everyone's favorite Devil makes an appearance. Later, there's a bit of father/daughter bonding.

After putting in a request for the warrant (if they’re lucky, they could get it as early as tomorrow afternoon), Dan settles down to work with Chloe, sifting through possible hitman suspects. Disappointingly, nothing seems that promising.

When three o’clock rolls around, he is ready to head out the door. He already cleared it with the lieutenant earlier that day when he asked if he could work through lunch to leave early.

Chloe tells him she’ll give the school a call to let them know he’s picking up Trixie after her club meeting. They exchange quick goodbyes and by 3:08pm, Dan’s on his way.

Thanks to some massive construction project on South La Brea _and_ some film crew taking up three blocks on Olympic, he has to take a few ridiculously asinine detours through residential neighborhoods. This is precisely why he wanted to leave early.

He ends up making it to the school around a quarter to four—still good timing—considering that Trixie’s meeting isn’t over until 4:30. Perfect time to sneak in a cat nap before he has to match the energy of a 6th grader.

Might as well be a good time to try and get in touch with Lucifer, too, since he’s been rather absent ever since they made their deal. Dan’s still not sure if what he experienced last night was a _dream_ -dream, a Lucifer-influenced dream, or, if by some small possibility that Lucifer had actually shown up for real.

Only one way to find out.

Dan sets his phone alarm for 4:25 to make sure he’s conscious before Trixie rushes outside. He leans his seat back and folds his arms over his chest, settling into a somewhat snug position against the inner walls of the car.

He concentrates on his intentions: he and Lucifer need to have a talk. And …maybe Dan misses him— _a_ _little_ —just because, like, it’s been a while (it’s only been two days), and this is sorta (very) important.

Several minutes pass before he finally begins to get a little drifty. The combination of the warm car and the muffled sounds of the outside world never fail to make the prospect of napping so inviting. Within a few more minutes, everything goes quiet and dark.

~*~

“Is there some sort of drug database I could register myself to? I’ve always been told I’m rather addictive and you’re clearly proof of it. First you can’t stand me and now, well, now you just won’t stop calling.” Lucifer grins, his teeth glinting brightly.

Dan lifts his head and sits up, as if waking, though he knows it’s not the same. He can distinguish the patterns of these strange dream states with Lucifer much easier now that it’s been a few times. Things outside the immediate space are hazy, and not as clearly lit. The perpetual hush surrounding them is also a dead giveaway.

He wants to be firm with Lucifer about his need for discussion. But looking at his damn, perfect, smug face, Dan gives in. “Yeah, well, things change. Besides, we haven’t talked about our deal since we made it and I need some answers.” There, that was firm. He was smiling while he said it though, so that loses him some tough-guy points. Not like he’s paying attention to how he acts around Lucifer or anything.

Lucifer raises one eyebrow at him. “Oh, direct, I like it. Alright, go ahead and ask your questions so we can move on to something less boring.”

Dan knows his window to keep Lucifer on track with a serious topic is extremely narrow. He goes straight to the heart of the matter. “Ok. So, what’s your plan? How are you going to help me?”

“Ah!” the Devil nods and straightens in his seat, “Right. Well, it’s quite simple. You see, it occurred to me that every time we’ve shagged each other rotten—,”

“— _dude_ ,” Dan groans, as if to say, ‘ _can you call it something else?’_

Lucifer looks at him impatiently. “Every time we’ve had _sex_ , dear, sweet, prudish Daniel, you let loose all of your aggression on me.”

Dan looks away and frowns. “You seemed pretty into it at the time.”

Lucifer places a hand on his arm, “And I _was_ I assure you. You’re quite good at taking the lead when it comes to carnal delights, it’s just that I wonder if there’s something more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if you could hold your tongue for one bloody moment and stop interrupting me, I might actually get around to telling you,” Lucifer chides.

Dan turns his gaze back to him and a dark, keen look fills his eyes.

The Devil grins at him. “ _There_ it is: that darkness of yours. It comes out whenever I provoke you—whenever you’re jonesing for an excuse to be rough, violent—unleashed.”

That gets a small smile from Dan as he looks out his window. “You make it easy.”

“I know,” Lucifer hums sweetly. Then he leans back in his seat again, clearing his throat. “But to cut to the chase—as much as I do love how your primal urges dictate our relationship—I wonder if you can’t do better?”

Dan snaps his head back to look at him. “Excuse me?”

Lucifer speaks rapidly. “You have always compared yourself to me, when really it was just your own insecurities at work. It made you hate me, when really you hated yourself. By channeling that hatred towards me when you bugger me senseless, it’s like you’re trying to burn it out of your mind. Ergo, if you turn that around and find a way to love me, then you can find a way to love yourself.”

Dan is stunned. “Are you suggesting we make this thing between us …a _thing_?”

“Yes,” he exasperates, as if it’s obvious. “And if you’re getting any romantic aspirations I’ll have you know that I’m not talking about you loving _me_ , Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil, I’m talking about you loving me, your manifested construct of everything you despise.” He grins and bounces in his seat a little, “Think of me as your subconscious self that needs some much needed love and devotion.”

“Well that’s terrifying,” Dan says, rolling his eyes.

Lucifer slaps the back of his hand against Dan’s arm, “Now you’re catching on. So, how shall we start? I presume since we’re outside what appears to be a schoolyard that you’re just taking a break before the offspring shows up, so perhaps I should visit you once you’re asleep tonight and we can—.”

“—wait, wait, just—just _stop_!” Dan cuts in sharply.

A defeated look in Lucifer’s eyes starts to take hold and it—fuck if it’s not the most unfair thing right now. Dan’s always been a sucker for the sad puppy eyes—and Lucifer’s are dead-on right now.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he resumes his gaze on the wounded Devil, he groans, “Damn it, would you stop it with the look?”

“I’m only doing this for your own good, Daniel. You’re not hurting me, you’re only hurting yourself, remember?” Lucifer bats his eyelashes demurely.

“Oh, c’mon!” Dan gripes, giving Lucifer a half-hearted shove, to which he’s rewarded with a yelp of surprise followed by burst of laughter.

“Come now, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Asshole,” Dan says, smiling and shaking his head.

The pleasant moment carries on for a bit longer before Dan sobers his mood. “But, seriously. Are you suggesting that we carry on some sort of relationship—in my dreams—in order for me to stop hating myself?”

Lucifer raises his chin. “I do believe I already explained as much. _And_ , in so doing, I can help you deal with that pesky sexual repression of yours and reap the resulting benefits in the process,” he says, undressing Dan with a lustful stare.

A tug of sensation beckons Dan to move towards him, but he resists long enough to think of something important. “What about Chloe?”

An unexpected wave of feeling moves across Lucifer’s gaze and he turns to stare directly ahead. He swallows. “It doesn’t matter what I feel for the Detective. All that matters is that she’s safe. The best way I can do that is to stay away.”

Before Dan can stop himself, he asks, “Can you hear her thoughts, too?”

He glances at Dan with an unreadable expression. “No. I suspect dear old Dad has a hand in that, just as he made me vulnerable in her presence. Besides, you know the Detective, she wasn’t raised religious—even if she was thinking of me, I doubt I’d ever hear it. I wasn’t joking when I told you that it takes conviction, Daniel. She’s never believed in anything like that until the truth was thrust upon her, and even then, she chooses not to see me that way.”

“You really think its best that she doesn’t know you still care about her?”

“I think its best that I don’t cause her anymore suffering. I can’t tell her how I feel if I can’t be with her when I’m supposed be _here_ , guarding the gates of Hell from another demon uprising.”

As strange as it is, Dan feels compelled to try something. He reaches out and rests his hand on top of Lucifer’s. The Devil looks down at it, lets his fingers twitch, but doesn’t pull away. Dan takes it as a sign and dares to inquire, “Did you come to my room last night?”

“I hardly see what that has to do with anything.”

Dan controls himself, works to be patient with Lucifer’s dodging. He looks him straight in the eyes. “Did you?”

Lucifer’s lips tighten and he sighs through his nose. He gives the barest of nods.

“Then why me and not her?”

Taking the hint, Lucifer looks at him carefully. “Dad forbid something should happen, but if it did, I could protect you. I can’t protect her.”

Dan’s not sure if it’s meant to be a comforting statement, but he’s touched that Lucifer let on that he cares about him. It feels important to hear that he matters—even if he’s pretty much just confirmed that he’s in second place. It makes him wonder something less than positive.

“Has anyone ever backed out on a deal with you?”

The Devil’s eyes narrow the tiniest bit. “No. They all say yes, and they always make good on their promises.”

“What are the consequences if someone didn’t, though?” Dan asks, drawing in his lower lip.

“Are you—are you trying to worm you way out of a deal?” Lucifer raises his voice, his eyes flash red, “With _me_?”

As if to reassure him, Dan takes Lucifer’s hand in both of his and squeezes. “No, I just—I just want to know what I’m up against—I need to know all the facts.”

“You know most of them already—you know the truth—you know that Hell is a very real place. I suppose all you need to know now is that it’s your own guilt that brings you here, not I. So when you ask me what are the consequences on breaking a promise: well as the saying goes, ‘there’s a special place in Hell for that’.”

Dan laughs, but not like he’s happy about it. He looks down at his hands clasped around Lucifer’s and realizes that he still hasn’t pulled away. He blinks and says, “Ok. One more question.”

Lucifer scoffs, “I don’t know why I let you ask any at all, you’re so good at killing the mood.”

That pulls a smirk from Dan and he tilts his side to side. “That’s actually along the lines of what I wanted to ask.” He pauses, Lucifer waits, looking impatient but ready to hear him. “Aside from whatever it is you’re planning on cashing in for my part of the deal, and aside from the sex you’re so clearly looking forward to—,”

“—I hardly think I’m the only one,” Lucifer coos.

Dan gives him a look and continues in earnest. “Aside from all that—why are you so willing to do this—with me?”

Lucifer tilts his head to the side, thinks for a moment, and then says, “Because I find you interesting.”

Somehow, that isn’t what Dan expected at all. “Since when?”

“Since your thoughts started projecting so loudly that I could hear them all the way down in Hell. Granted, that wasn’t the first time you’d done it—there were several times when I heard bits and pieces of your psyche lashing out enough to give me a good laugh.”

Dan remembers a few times when he was pretty riled up over Lucifer doing something outrageous or childish or he was just pissed at him for existing, and he’d hear him chuckling about it. When he asked what was so funny, the usual response was, ‘ _you wouldn’t get it_.’ Well that answers that.

He smiles and his brow creases. “So what changed? Why was the time I reached you down in Hell so different?”

Lucifer glances down at his hand, still being held by Dan, and returns his gaze to look at him thoughtfully. “That’s what I’d like to know.” The look turns into a grin. “So, I figured the only way I could make sense of it was to do the proper thing and investigate it further.”

Dan mirrors his expression and starts to lean in closer. “Working for the LAPD really has rubbed off on you, hasn’t it?”

Lucifer’s eyes begin to lower as he leans towards Dan. “Among other things,” he says softly.

Their lips brush one another.

Dan’s alarm goes off.

~*~

The shrill, digital sound causes Dan to startle awake and gasp. He taps the phone to shut up and blinks a few times to bring himself back to full consciousness.

“Damn,” he mutters as he rubs his face with both hands.

He hops out of the car and stretches, scratching the back of his head as he thinks about his most recent encounter with Lucifer. It feels like they never really have enough time to sort shit out—and yet, barring an alarm—they have lots of time.

He hopes that they can make better use of it in the future, whatever that entails.

As Dan leans forward on his car to rest his arms on the roof, he feels tightness in his pants as they rub against the door. He looks down and swears angrily under his breath, trying to readjust himself stealthily while fighting not to panic about being a pervert with a boner outside a schoolhouse.

Thankfully, the embarrassment gets his erection to vanish immediately and he lets out a long sigh, slapping his hands rhythmically on the roof of his car to distract himself while he waits for Trixie to show.

As soon as he sees her bright, excited smile rushing towards him, everything feels better. He comes around to the other side of the car and kneels to get the wind knocked out of him with a fierce hug. “Hey, Monkey!”

“Hi Daddy!” she steps back and looks up at him. “How come you’re picking me up instead of mom?”

“Your mom and I thought it’d been too long since we last had a proper Taco Tuesday.”

“Taco Tuesday? Really? Awesome!” Trixie bounces up and down, her backpack jostling nosily.

Dan takes her pack, loads it in the back seat and opens the passenger door. Once she hops in, he closes it and comes around to the driver side. He turns on the ignition, automatically taking note that she is buckled up before he gets back on the road.

“So how was your first club meeting?” he asks.

“It was cool! The classroom had all of these different tables where you could pick what you wanted to do. I picked the colored pencil table.”

“Oh yeah? Draw anything good?”

Trixie gives him a mock-unimpressed look. “ _Dad_ , art is subjective; it’s all in the eye of the beholder.”

He chuckles, “Is that something you learned today?”

She beams at him, “Mm-hmm! Miss Delilah says that art is a personal expression of the individual—so even when it doesn’t mean something to you, it still means something to the person who made it.”

“Well, Miss Delilah is absolutely right. So, did you draw anything that meant something to you?”

“Nah, I just doodled while she talked mostly. Today we just introduced ourselves and she told us all about the rules and stuff. It was a little boring. But next week we’re supposed to just pick a table and have fun, so it will _definitely_ be better!”

“Well then here’s to next week!” he says, glancing at her with a smile.

Dan’s feeling great. He thought he was going to be a little exhausted even after his nap, but he finds that Trixie’s enthusiasm never fails to elevate his mood.

Even though he and Chloe aren’t together anymore, he’s really looking forward to having a family night again. He hadn’t realized how much he missed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm being such tease about Dan/Lucifer. I swear more is on the way, but there's character development to be had and well, you know how it is. These stories tend to write themselves sometimes and there's no telling how things end up panning out. Be ready for some very interesting developments in the next chapter! Saturdays seem to be working, so we'll shoot for that!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taco Time! Sexy Time! Drama Time!

Once they get to Chloe’s place, Dan tells Trixie to get some homework done before they get started on making dinner. He gets a text from Chloe not long after saying she should be home in about twenty minutes.

In that time, he makes three seasoning blends; one for the meat, one for the guacamole, and one for the salsa. He preheats the oven on low and prepares a work station on the counter to chop everything. He’s pleased with himself for how dialed-in he’s gotten with his prep work. It’s the little things.

When Chloe opens the door, she’s balancing two bags of groceries in her arms. Dan swoops in and takes them both from her and lets her pass by him.

“Thanks! Where’s Trix?”

He motions with a jerk of his head and marches to the kitchen with the bags. “In her room doing homework—hope you don’t mind—I kinda got started already.”

As she approaches the kitchen island, she gives him an impressed look. “Look at you being all efficient.”

He shrugs, unable to hide his bashfulness, “Yeah, something to pass the time.”

She smirks at him. “I’m excited too. Honestly, after how complicated this case has gotten I am _totally_ ready to have a glass of wine and stuff my face.”

Dan looks at her curiously. “I still don’t get how you can drink wine with tacos—everyone knows you pair them with beer.”

“Or tequila if it’s a party!” she shoots back as she heads to the fridge. “But, fear not,” she reaches for something and then turns around, waving a bottle of Bud Light at him. “There’s still a few of these in here from the last time we did this.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” he grins; taking the bottle and popping it open only to stop short. He stares at Chloe. Her back is turned to him as she pours herself a glass of white wine.

Does she know she’s a miracle?

Dan hesitantly raises the bottle to his lips and takes a drink to mask the look on his face.

Chloe turns and toasts him. She takes a sip and then sets her glass down on the counter, clapping her hands together once. “Alright, I’ll go grab our daughter if you want to keep being efficient!”

“I’m on it,” he says with a smirk.

The moment she passes by (and casually brushes her hip against his), he blows out a silent breath and widen his eyes. He clears his throat, stares into space for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he was literally married to a _miracle_.

He shakes his head vigorously and gets started on the salsa.

~*~

The evening breezes by pleasantly. It’s one of the most relaxing, easy nights Dan’s had in months.

Chloe had decided to mix things up a bit. Instead of the flour tortillas they usually would crisp up in the oven, she brought home blue corn hard shells. And, she subbed beef for chicken (it looked _way_ more appetizing than the ground beef, thanks to the horror pile they’d seen yesterday).

Everything came out just right—one of those rare occasions where the avocados and the tomatoes were perfectly in season, the meat was nice and tender, and the tacos were crunchy but not crumbly.

After dinner, the three of them played a round of Uno (Chloe won this time), watched _Ralph Breaks the Internet_ , and finished off the evening with a little bit of ice cream (and another round of wine and beer for the adults).

Everything feels normal and safe and familiar, and Dan is grateful for the mental rest from everything else going on in his life right now.

While Trixie gets ready for bed, Dan and Chloe work around each other in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and packing up leftovers. There’s a meditative silence between them, just like things used to be when they were at their most content around each other. There’s no friction, just flow.

Dan thinks about how Chloe’s been dropping subtle hints towards him all evening. He _knows_ that’s gotta be what she’s doing. Either that or his libido has just been kicked into overdrive ever since Lucifer got under his skin.

That probably has something to do with it, at least. But, she has been smiling easily and there’ve been a few casual brushes of closeness, too. _And,_ in general, she’s been more confident and a little bossy—which he knows she knows he loves.

Once they’re finished in the kitchen, they both walk to Trixie’s room and settle her down for the evening. Dan is kneeling beside her bed, Chloe stands behind him.

“Can we do this every week?” Trixie asks.

Both parents exchange a knowing look and then Dan strokes the top of his daughter’s head. “I don’t know, Monkey. Things are still kind of hectic at work; we might not have the energy like you do.” He tickles her and is rewarded with a squeal.

Chloe leans over him, her stomach pressing against his shoulder lightly. She runs her hand over Trixie’s cheek and smiles down at her. “Besides, you’d get tired of tacos if we had them _every_ week.”

Trixie shakes her head defiantly, “Never!”

Both of them chuckle and look to one another again, this time a little longer, a little more meaningfully. They can still have silent conversations sometimes.

Dan looks back to Trixie and offers, “How about every other week?”

The little girl rolls her eyes dramatically, “I _suppose_ I can wait.”

“Sometimes waiting for something makes it all worth it when it finally happens,” Chloe says very cheerfully. Trixie smiles and nods, Dan holds his tongue. He knows his daughter missed the undercurrent of strain in her mother’s voice, but he heard it loud and clear.

They each kiss her goodnight. Chloe hits the lights; Dan shuts the door behind them.

~*~

Having reclaimed their drinks, they take them outside and sit down on the cushioned patio loveseat, angling so that they can look at one another.

Chitchat comes easily. They gush about how excited and proud they are of Trixie starting a new activity. Dan shares with her what Trixie told him earlier that day, and they talk more in depth about things they might want to consider encouraging their daughter to explore—if the art thing really sticks.

Dan finishes off his beer. Considering its light beer, it’s nearly nine o’clock, and he started at around six, he only feels a bit warm in the cheeks. He’ll be comfortable to drive home soon.

Chloe has a light, bubbly quality to her voice right now—though he knows she’s not drunk. She does like to pour her glasses of wine a little deep, though, so she’s probably feeling a bit giddy.

He wants to tell her he knows the truth. He’s not sure how much longer he can hold it in—even if he’s afraid that it might bring up something painful for her. And he—he just wants to be able to tell her about everything that’s been going on with him. Damn it, it’s time.

In unison, they both blurt out, “So, I have something I—.”

They start laughing softly. Chloe says, “I’m sorry, you go first.”

Dan shakes his head. “No, no, you go ahead.” He’s waited this long to say something, what’s a few more minutes? He doesn’t mind letting her go first—especially when he sees her smile like that.

Chloe sits up on one knee so that she is looking down at him and then nods with an exhale. “Ok. Well,” she clears her throat, “I meant what I said about both of us doing better. And I know this might be a little forward, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about it—and—I think I’m finally ready to move on from where I’ve been,” she bobs her head, sure of herself.

He furrows his brow, feeling a little lost. He smiles, nonetheless, hands out to his sides, “That’s…that’s great, Chlo, I’m happy for you.” And then it hits him. “Wait, are you…are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

She glances down at her wine glass. “I—well, you know, it’s not that—what do you think I’m suggesting?” she gives him a playful, yet scrutinizing gaze.

He had a feeling the evening was headed this way. He still can’t believe it’s actually happening, though. And yet…

The mood shifts. Silence fills the space between them.

He stares up at her, unblinking.

Chloe draws in the corner of her lower lip with her teeth.

Dan knows this game. She wants him to say it first. He can do better than talk.

He moves forward slowly. He takes her wine glass from her hand and sets it on the ground, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. The moment his hand is free, she lurches forward and presses her lips to his, holding his face in her hands.

Dan slips his palms under her shirt and rests them right at the center of her waist, his favorite spot to hold her. Their kissing is frantic, yet habitually hushed. They’ve been parents long enough to know better.

He slides to the center of the loveseat. Chloe shifts with him and settles over his lap, one hand going through his hair, the other curving around the back of his neck. Her nails dig in just a bit.

Between labored breaths and soft slips of grinding, clothed bodies, Dan realizes that this is probably not a good idea. He should stop (her hips rock against his groin). He should say something (her tongue is warm and soft). He should control himself (he’s missed the feel of her skin).

Dan starts to slow his movements. Chloe presses her hips forward insistently.

Who the Hell is he kidding?

He pushes her to stand. She immediately tugs her pants off. He rushes, gets his jeans around his ankles, and then Chloe climbs back onto his lap and their kissing resumes.

She reaches for his cock when Dan has the forethought to grab her wrist lightning quick and moves back enough to say, “What about—?”

“—it’s ok, I have an implant.”

“Works for me,” he smiles, and then pushes inside her.

They both exhale sharply, remembering how good this felt and relishing how it hasn’t changed at all.

Dan quickly whips his arms around Chloe’s hips and cups his hands under her ass. He lifts her and thrusts up; she arches her back and shudders, suppressing a moan.

This was the reason he started lifting in the first place. Once he could lift one and a half times her weight easily, the first thing they did was do it up against a wall.

He breathes fast and shallow, concentrating on her face, watching every twitch, every quiver. He’s so familiar with her expressions and yet he never tires of seeing all the ones he can make her do. There’s comfort in that—knowing the effect he has on her is still so strong.

Clearly, the feeling is mutual. Chloe is moving with him, rocking into his thrusts and squeezing her inner muscles in a supremely unfair way. Her nails are digging into his shoulders. She’s so wet. Fuck if it’s not gonna be difficult to keep this up much longer.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says between rapid breaths.

Chloe blinks big, doe eyes at him and a moan fights its way through her mouth. She presses her lips together to keep from doing it again. A grin spreads on Dan’s face. He starts pumping harder.

She screws her eyes shut, tilts her head forward and shudders, “Oh—oh god— _Dan_.”

He’s panting now, going full bore, his eyes closed, too. Chloe is gasping. One of her hands moves away from his shoulder and glides down his chest—waits.

Dan knows what she’s asking. In a small voice, he begs, “Yes— _please_.”

She twists his left nipple. Dan gasps. She slowly turns it tighter between her fingertips. His breathing hitches and then he shudders a light moan. Chloe moans with him. He buries himself deep as he comes hard, his whole body tensing with the sensation.

He works to steady his breathing. Chloe begins to sink against him.

Dan stops her, lifting her off of him and pushes her into a standing position again. He slips down off the loveseat carefully and hits his bare knees against the pavement. It’s just enough pain to shake off his post-orgasm high.

His ears are ringing and he feels like jelly, but he ignores all of it. One hand wraps around her thigh for stability, the other moves between her legs, just beneath her labia.

Dan flicks his gaze up to her. He leans his head forward and watches her face as he slips two fingers inside and rolls his tongue down the front of her clit. Chloe rewards his efforts by slapping one hand onto his shoulder, jerking her hips forward, and tightening her lips together to keep from crying out.

He smiles and gently moves his fingers in and out, keeping them crooked just a little. His thumb and the length of his tongue do the rest, licking and rubbing in the ways he knows she likes.

He tastes himself on her, knows how much Chloe loves it when he goes down on her right after coming inside her. He’s always thought it was pretty hot, to be honest—but now he wonders if there’s more than just one reason why.

Chloe grabs the back of his head with one hand and pulls him forward. Dan knows what it means. He takes his thumb away, stills his fingers, and starts flicking his tongue faster. She inhales suddenly.

When her climax hits her, Chloe steels her grip on his head. She keeps him pinned in front of her as she curls her upper body forward, short gasps escaping her throat. He doesn’t stop licking until she has to push him back with a bit of force.

Dan sinks backwards to sit on his heels and rests his hands on the tops of his thighs. He’s out of breath when he looks up at her, smiling big.

Chloe is still trying to catch her breath, too. She bends over, her hair falling down on both sides of her face. She smiles back and gives him a kiss. They both start chuckling softly.

~*~

Dan heads quietly back inside to grab Chloe a towel. His heart is pounding and he’s still smiling like an idiot. He takes a second to rinse off his face really good before he heads back outside.

He hands her the towel and sits back down on the loveseat. She cleans up the shiny mess Dan’s made, slips her pants back on and flops down beside him, pressing their thighs together.

They’re both quiet for a moment. Their urges sated, they start to come back down to reality, thinking about what just happened.

Dan’s starting to feel it: the sickening, heavy pull of guilt.

Technically, he never actually agreed to Lucifer’s suggestion. Or was it an unspoken agreement? Did it still count if nothing was said, but nothing was _not_ said?

Shit.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

He and Lucifer were only just starting to make something happen and then Dan had to go and set it on fire— _with_ _Chloe_ —of all people. He thinks if it had been just about anyone else, this wouldn’t be nearly as much of an issue. But his ex-wife? The love interest of the Devil? The Devil he was supposed to be sorta-kinda dating right now?

He fucked up.

And how the hell is he supposed to tell Chloe that he knows the truth now? The moment he starts hedging details, she’ll know something’s up. The moment she sees that Lucifer clearly means more to him than even he thought possible, it’s only gonna get worse.

He fucked up _so bad_.

With perfect (terrible) timing, Chloe asks pleasantly, “So, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Fuck.

Dan breathes in and then laughs, shaking his head, “I uh, I don’t remember anymore.” A coil of anxiety starts spreading inside his gut.

She laughs with him for a moment and then quiets down, clearing her throat. “I know this might have come as a total surprise to you, but,” she licks her lower lip and looks at him with eyes that slay him every time. “I realized that I’ve really missed being this close to you.”

Dan’s heart tightens in his chest. His brain is tearing itself apart with guilt. His stomach is in knots. He wants to smash something—maybe his own face.

“Me too,” he says quietly, taking her hand in his, kissing the back of it before resting it between them.

He thinks of the only thing he can do now that might buy him some time to fix this. “I—I can’t believe I’m saying this but—.”

“—you can’t do this,” Chloe finishes. She nods easily, like she isn’t surprised. Like she was expecting this. Like she was expecting him to let her down. Again.

No.

No, no, _no_.

“That’s not it!” he shoots back. He squeezes her hand, holds it tightly. He starts digging himself a hole. “I just—it’s—maybe we’re moving into this too fast. Just give me some time, ok? Please, Chlo, don’t mistake my reluctance for rejection—that’s not what this is.” He digs deeper. “I promise.”

Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. She works so hard to stay strong. With a gradual nod, she smiles, swallowing audibly. “Ok.”

He smiles back, “Ok.”

~*~

They exchange awkward, ‘It’s getting late’ goodbyes.

The moment Dan is back in his car, he slams his fist several times against the inside of the door. He learned to never punch the steering wheel after an incident a few years ago. He had punched it so hard the airbag light came on, and for three days he was panicked about driving anywhere for fear it might deploy.

He hates how much it hurt to see that look on Chloe’s face again. That rejected yet unsurprised stare that said so much about how shitty he’d been towards the end of their marriage.

And somehow, despite it all, she can still find it in her heart to care about him enough to want to get back together? She really _is_ a miracle.

He can’t believe he lied to her.

Was it really lying though?

He does still love her. Even before what they did tonight, there’s no question in his mind about that. But he did mean what he said about needing some time, too.

Lucifer…

Dan doesn’t want to stop seeing him, either. He’s not sure it’s only about his newfound sexuality, or his old, angry obsessions. When he thinks about what’s really going on, it’s that Lucifer, despite all his teasing, doesn’t judge him for anything that actually matters.

And, if Dan’s really being honest with himself, he feels comforted by how they communicate with each other. There’s something about the way they argue and fluidly slip back into casual conversation that’s oddly satisfying to him. It’s a dynamic he’s never experienced with anyone else.

He wonders if it has something to do with the prayer thing, or maybe the fact that Lucifer is literally in his subconscious whenever they speak to each other now.

Either way, whatever is going on between them; it’s become important to Dan. And that’s what makes all of this so much worse.

The entire time Dan’s been letting these thoughts race through his head, he’s been staring straight ahead at nothing, fuming angrily.

_Such a piece of shit. Fucking pathetic._

He’s worked up. He can’t even contemplate going to sleep anytime soon (not like he has the guts to face Lucifer right now, anyway).

He needs to blow off steam. Punching his car is not enough.

He stares at the clock. He does a mid-shift tomorrow, so he doesn’t go in until 11am. He can be up a while longer tonight.

Dan pulls out his phone, stares at it for a moment, and scrolls through his contact list looking for a particular number.

~*~

 ** _Dan (9:43pm):_** Hey. Any bounties kicking around on your to-do list you could use some help with tonight?

 ** _Maze (9:43pm):_** Nope.

 ** _Dan (9:44pm):_** Sorry, let me rephrase that. If you’re hunting tonight, would you like some company?

 ** _Maze (9:47pm):_** Better. Corner of Stanley & Santa Monica. 20 minutes.

 ** _Dan (9:48pm):_** OMW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan is such a mess! At least he's a lovable one. Chapter 12 might appear later today, if I have time to finish it. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this! Your thoughts, as always, are appreciated and welcome :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan tags along with Maze for some roughhousing. Then he and Lucifer have an illuminating conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS
> 
> I am so, so, sorry I couldn't get out Chapter 12 so you had back-to-back chapters to read. My plans on Saturday took *way* longer than they were supposed to and by their end, I was exhausted. I apologize for drawing out the development in this story. I do hope it hasn't deterred your interests. There is so much more to see/read.
> 
> Enough talk, on with the story!

The techno music pumping out of car speakers and the track suits moving in every direction immediately remind Dan that he’s in the Russian district.

Not that he’s too concerned—he did their mob a favor not long ago, after all. But still, he tries not to draw attention to himself, pulling out his phone to stare it at so it doesn’t look like he’s on a stakeout while he waits for Maze in his car.

Not even two minutes pass before there’s a tap on the back driver’s side door. He checks his side mirror, sees the telltale leather-clad figure of Mazikeen Smith standing there, and hits the unlock button.

She slips in and shuts the door quickly, a toothy grin on her face. “So, Darker Dan’s making a comeback, huh?”

A wry smirk lifts his face as he flicks his gaze to her from his rearview. “Let’s just say he needed to come out and stretch his legs for a bit. So what’s the plan?”

Maze signals with her chin to the block across from them, “The spa next to the bar. You go in, make a scene, it should draw out the big guy.”

“‘The big guy’? That’s it?” Dan asks.

“You’ll know him,” she nods, still keeping her focus trained outside.

“Why do I gotta make a scene?”

“You said you wanted to help.”

“But you don’t need help.”

“I don’t. But I’m way better at surprising bad guys than you are.”

Dan smiles, “Can’t argue that.”

She turns her head and smiles back. “Good, then go make some noise.”

“On it,” he says, and tosses her the car keys before he steps out.

~*~

Dan walks in the front door and… it’s a men’s bathhouse. And not just any men’s bathhouse. 

From the pulsing dance music playing, the bath products for sale (including what suspiciously look like bottles of lube), the lavender colored walls, the stupid-sexy, fishnet shirt-clad man at the front desk, to the _nude_ male photo prints on the walls, it’s a gay men’s bathhouse.

No wonder Maze wanted him to go in first.

But he can’t say he’s disappointed. He looks at the man behind the counter: dark hair, dark eyes, light complexion, angular jaw, muscular.

Maybe it’ll even make it more interesting.

Working to not get too distracted (he’s actually kind of excited that he’s loosening up about that part of himself); Dan strolls up to the desk with confident swagger. “How’s it goin’, man?”

“This is private establishment, members only,” Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy says. His accent heavily coats his words, but it’s clear his tone is not friendly.

 _Perfect_.

“So what’s it take to become a member then?”

“That is privileged information.”

Dan grins. “And how much does that cost?” He pretends to reach for his wallet, certain he knows what’s coming next.

As anticipated, Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy snaps, “You can’t pay it.”

“What? You saying my money is no good here?”

“We don’t service cops.”

Dan’s gonna have to push harder. He definitely has no problem doing that.

He holds his arms out, turns slightly, “You see a badge anywhere, pal?”

“You look like a cop,” he says, jutting a slender chin in his direction.

Dan has a split second to digest that.

He doesn’t think this guy actually knows he’s a cop—which, ( _for fuck’s_ _sake_ ), can only mean that yet again, something about him really does scream _cop_.

And that’s all he needs to keep the fires of his anger burning bright.

“Maybe I could change your mind.”

“Maybe I don’t like you.”

“Then maybe we’ve got a problem.”

Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy stands up and walks around the counter. He is not only taller than Dan by at least a few inches, but it’s plain to see he’s capable and ready to throw down—assuming his (extremely well-toned) muscles aren’t just for show.

“You should leave.”

Dan’s heart is racing. He squares his shoulders, feeling all-too eager for this. He inhales a breath, his grin persisting. “No.”

Hands thrust out for his jacket, but Dan is deceptively fast, ducking out of the way with a side step. That one move is enough to infuriate Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy, and he immediately goes for a right hook.

A firm strike rattles Dan’s jaw, and his adrenalin spikes.

Dan trips him, only to get tripped back. He launches upwards, fakes an uppercut with his left. He socks the taller man in the stomach with his right fist, only to get clocked in the side of head.

They tackle each other to the ground. Dan squirms out of reach and backs up just in time to dodge a flying chair. Decorative lobby items smash. More fists fly.

He gets a bloody lip, but he’s not the only one. Something about damaging that Stupid-Sexy face is quite satisfying.

He has a single moment to be overly pleased with himself when he gets a kick to the gut and doubles over onto his knees.

Three men rush out from the back in response to the commotion. Two of them head straight to Dan while he’s still on the ground and grab him by the arms, dragging him into a standing position.

When he looks up, he immediately recognizes the third by the vague description Maze had given him. He has to be at least six and a half feet tall, is a solid wall of muscle—and has more tattoos covering his skin than the pathetic excuse for a towel that covers his junk.

Dan snickers, “You must be ‘The Big Guy.’”

The man creases his brow. “How’d you know?” he asks, his deep voice sounding genuinely surprised.

Dan’s grin drops, he hesitates. “…Seriously?”

A strange creaking sound silences the room and suddenly, Maze crashes through the ceiling panels, landing directly behind Dan.

The two goons distracted, Dan slips out of their hold and gets right back to business, successfully punching both of them at the same time. They stagger backwards.

Maze goes straight for The Big Guy, who turns to run.

Dan has a second to be caught off guard by that and gets side-swept by Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy, and smacks his head squarely against the floor. He slips unconscious immediately.

~*~

He comes to just as a dark blur of movement whips overhead and barrels into a fishnet-clad body. There’s a sound of tearing fabric. Someone yelps. It doesn’t sound like Maze.

Dan winces as he gets to his feet, rubbing the back of head. Maze strides past him and walks back up to The Big Guy, which, Dan guesses by his previous reaction, is actually his title, not just a description.

While Dan was out, she had managed to cuff The Big Guy and get him on his knees. He’s bleeding from the side of his head and the right side of his face is starting to swell.

Maze shoves her left boot heel into the man’s shoulder, slamming him up against the wall. She grinds in the edge of the heel, making him groan loudly. “Where is it?” she hisses.

“I—I don’t—,”

Her right hand flies under his towel and he makes a very unmanly sound. “ _Where is it_ , Ivan?”

“Ok, ok! It’s in my locker. Number twenty-six.”

She does something under the towel again and he lets out another squeal, “And the lock?”

“Combination sixteen, thirty-two, five.”

Maze unceremoniously rips her hand away and storms off into the back.

Dan looks around the room. The two he punched are unconscious and are zip-tied together by one ankle each. He has a feeling they won’t know that until it’s too late.

Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy’s fishnet shirt has been ripped off him and repurposed as bindings on his wrists and some of it as a gag in his mouth. Dan can’t help but think he looks better this way. Thankfully, he’s also unconscious.

He walks, a little rigidly, over to Ivan—A.K.A. The Big Guy—and is about to ask what he’s being brought in for when Maze returns.

She twirls and pockets a long, black knife with a silver loop on the end into a sheath on her leg and walks past Dan towards the front door. “We can go now.”

Dan stares at her over his shoulder, dumbfounded.

She gives him a look and jerks her head at the door insistently.

He hesitates for a second and then follows after her. He’s _so_ gonna have a word with her when they get back to the car.

~*~

She tosses him his keys, he automatically catches them, and they both hop inside.

He turns to her, hands out at his sides. “What the hell, Maze? I thought we were bringing in a bounty.”

Maze shrugs, “Didn’t have one at the moment.”

“So you just sent me into a gay Russian bathhouse full of thugs to do—what—help you get a fucking _knife_?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d be stoked. I mean,” she rolls her eyes in his direction and grins, “some of them were pretty hot.”

He glares at her incredulously. “That’s not—that’s not the point, Maze! Jesus. Look, it’s one thing if I aid you in bringing in a bad guy—it’s entirely another thing if we’re just going around, beating the shit out of people and taking their stuff. That’s assault and robbery!”

Before he can even draw another breath, Maze pulls out the blade in question and points it at him for a second, then flips it and holds it out, handle first. In a softer voice, she says, “Not if it was mine to begin with.”

Dan eases up and takes it. On one side of the blade, an inscription reads:

_To the fiercest, most loyal friend in the world – Love, Linda_

He hands it back to her and asks gently, “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

She shrugs again. “It sounded like you needed to beat the shit out of some people.”

He smirks. “Yeah, I guess I did. So how’d it wind up in that guy’s hands?”

Maze leans towards him. “The pretty boy you kept staring at? He swiped it off me at a poker game the other night. He’s one of Ivan’s lap dogs. I found out earlier tonight that he’d given it to him as a gift. I got your text when I was on my way over here.”

“Guess it was my lucky night then,” he says, laughing openly.

Her brow narrows a little. She leans closer, flares her nostrils and then gives him a kitten-fanged smile. “I’ll say. Fuck and then fight, huh? I can get behind that.”

He loses the pleasant look he had on his face and blinks at her. “What are you talking about?”

Maze snorts. “You know, I thought I was just imagining it at first, but now, it’s obvious: you smell like sex, Dan.” Clearly, he can’t hide the flush in his cheeks, because she presses him with, “Is Lucifer gonna have some competition or is this something he suggested you do?”

“I—what? That’s not—Christ, do you even know how relationships are supposed to work?”

“I know how relationships for Lucifer are supposed to work.”

“What does that even mean?”

Maze tilts her head to the side and gives him a flat look, “It means that he’s _very_ fond of sharing, obviously.”

Dan wasn’t expecting that. He averts his gaze downward, “Oh.” He sighs and shifts back to staring straight ahead, tilting his head against the headrest. “I’m sorry I flew off the handle—again.”

She shrugs. “It’s ok. I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal. I mean, it’s just sex.”

He flicks his gaze to her for a moment and looks away again. “It’s not just sex. At least not this time, anyway.”

Maze tightens her lips together and nods slowly. “Well, you clearly have some shit to work out and I want to go home and take a bath. So, thanks—that was fun.”

A dry expression twitches across his face. “Glad I could entertain you.”

“Hey,” she says. He looks at her and she gives a friendly punch to his arm. “I mean it, it was nice having company.”

Apparently, tonight is not a night for a heart-to-heart. Not like Dan expects her to stay and listen to him bitch. There’s a time and a place. He gets it. His face warms up and he says, “Thanks for having me.”

She smiles at him and then gets out of the car. “You can still call me anytime you want to beat people up—no matter the reason—that’s a standing offer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, Maze?”

She swings her head back down into the car, holding the door open, “Yeah?”

Before he can stop himself, Dan asks, “Has Lucifer ever been jealous? Of _anyone_?”

Maze takes a second to think about that and then replies, “No. ‘Cept maybe you.” She winks at him and shuts the door.

Dan settles back into his seat and exhales a sigh, nodding to himself slowly, “Of course. Why would it be anyone else?”

~*~

When Dan finally gets home, he patches himself up. Cleans the scrapes, ices his jaw for twenty minutes, and then takes a shower.

He feels somewhat better after fighting—it mellowed him out, at least. But now he just feels a quiet dread about telling Lucifer what he did. Oddly enough, it doesn’t feel nearly as terrifying as the thought of telling Chloe about everything. He’s not sure why.

Still, he considers knocking himself out with some sleep aids to avoid dreaming.

After a moment, angrily, Dan shrugs off the idea and heads to bed. He’s not _that_ much of a coward. But it _is_ the Devil…Maybe if he just doesn’t think too much about Lucifer, then he won’t be able to enter his mind.

Banking on that idea, Dan slips under his covers and, thanks to his rather labor-intensive evening, falls fast asleep.

~*~

Dan finds himself in the lobby of the gay bathhouse again. Only this time, he’s standing over Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy, who is still gagged and tied up with his own fishnet shirt.

He’s looking up at Dan expectantly, a temping look in his eyes. Dan grins and starts to lean forward when he’s interrupted by a voice from behind him.

“ _Well_ , this is delightfully unexpected!”

Turning his head, Dan sees Lucifer casually admiring the nude photo prints on the walls. He turns to look at him, and notices the man kneeling on the floor.

Lucifer’s smile broadens and he walks up to Dan, but his eyes are all for the man at their feet. “Hel-lo, I see you brought company, too. You know, some say three’s a crowd but I say the more the merrier.”

Dan stares at him, his brow knitting together. “How are you here right now? I uh, I didn’t call you.”

The Devil turns his head and quirks a thick brow at him curiously. “Oh, am I interrupting? I could sit this one out if you like—come back later or, if you don’t mind an audience, I promise you I’ll be quiet. Sometimes it’s more exciting that way.”

Dan smirks and shakes his head. “Not even gonna answer my question, huh?”

Lucifer rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Honestly, does every conversation with you have to begin so insipidly? If you must know, I wanted to continue where we left off earlier, when we were so rudely interrupted by your sudden dash into consciousness. I usually stand by the maxim, ‘actions speak louder than words,’ but in this instance, I still had more to say.”

“I thought you had to be invited into my mind first?” Dan asks. He’s starting to feel weird that they’re not ‘alone’—even though Stupid-Sexy Desk Guy is clearly just part of some fantasy that he was apparently about to have.

“I already have been,” Lucifer says, grinning. “And unless you concentrate on revoking that invitation, once invited, I’m always welcome.”

Dan gives a slow nod, “Would have been nice to know that sooner.” His eyes dart to the man on the floor and he scratches the back of his head nervously. “Can we—is there a way for us to talk somewhere else?”

Lucifer chuckles, “Still feeling shy are we? There’s really no need, he’s not in this plane like you or I. He’s merely a conjuration of your subconscious.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d still like it if we could not be here.”

“Very well, close your eyes. It’ll make it easier for your mind to adjust.”

Dan does as asked. Immediately, he feels the weight of his bed sheets over him and a warm figure pressed up close against his back.

Lucifer’s lips brush against his ear. “Is this more to your liking?”

Opening his eyes, Dan sees that he’s back in his bedroom. He lets out a soft sigh and turns around to face Lucifer. “Definitely.”

“Wonderful. Now, where were we?” he leans forward and presses his mouth to Dan’s, seeking a kiss. Dan kisses him back, but he can’t hide his reluctance. Lucifer pulls away and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Dan’s trying not to panic. He’s been doing pretty good at not panicking since Lucifer first showed up. But now, looking him in the eyes, he realizes just how afraid he is of hurting Lucifer’s feelings.

And why does that matter to him so much? It never used to. So much has changed in such a short time. It’s getting hard to keep track of everything. He stalls quickly with, “I thought you said you had more to say?”

“Oh, right. Well, now that we’re here, I think it can wait, don’t you?” he goes in for another kiss and immediately senses Dan’s unease. He groans, “What is it now?”

Dan rolls away onto his back and swallows a lump in his throat. “I…I have a confession to make.”

Lucifer props himself up on his elbows, “Seriously? For Dad’s sake, Daniel, I’m not a priest, I’m the Devil. People don’t confess their sins to me; I make sure they get punished _for_ them.”

“It’s not like that!” Dan snaps. He sighs, “At least, I don’t want it to be like that. But, maybe that would help make it easier to say—thinking of it like a confession, I mean.”

They both fall silent.

Then, with a flustered groan and a flurry of movement, Lucifer grabs their pillows. He props them up vertically beside him, effectively making a wall between them and then settles in.

In a slightly irritated yet gentle tone, he says, “What troubles you, Daniel?”

Dan recognizes that Lucifer is trying very hard to accommodate him right now. In fact, the longer he thinks about it, the more he sees just how yielding Lucifer’s been the entire time they’ve been doing…whatever it is they’ve been doing.

Lucifer has let Dan insult him, fight him, fuck him, and even convince him to make a deal to help him work through his issues. He’s asked for so much, and what has Lucifer gotten out of it in return?

He deserves honesty. At this point, it’s all Dan feels he has left to offer—and that feels pretty weak, all things considered.

Something about this gesture _is_ comforting though. It helps Dan find the courage to speak. “Well, I started—,” Dan cuts himself off, swears under his breath. “Shit. This is gonna be way harder than I thought.”

“Take all the time you need,” Lucifer says quietly.

Dan is touched, but this is still going to be difficult. He lets go of a ragged sigh. “I started seeing someone recently. It hasn’t been very long, but I—I really want to see where it goes. I’m afraid I might have ruined it though.”

“How do you think you might have ruined it?”

“I slept with someone else,” Dan says swiftly. He blinks. He hadn’t intended to just spit it out like that, but it’s too late now.

Lucifer is silent for a few seconds and then says, “Have you and this person you’re seeing discussed your views on fidelity?”

Dan furrows his brow. “No, we haven’t.”

“Then how do you know that what you did is wrong? Perhaps this _other person_ is more open-minded than you realize.”

Dan rubs his face with one of his hands and shakes his head. “That’s just it—I think he’s _very_ open-minded. In fact, I think he’d encourage me to share myself with others as openly as he does.”

A hush falls in place of the conversation. An unsettling feeling hits Dan in his stomach.

The Devil’s voice remains utterly neutral. “It’s not that you slept with someone else, then, it’s _who_ you slept with, isn’t it?”

Dan whispers, “Yes.”

“Tell me,” he says patiently.

It feels a little unnerving to hear him sound this calm. Dan can feel it; Lucifer must know by now exactly who this is about. And yet, he hasn’t stopped listening.

With a shuddering exhale, Dan explains what happened.

He starts with Chloe’s behavior. How she had steadily ramped up her affection towards him until there was no room left for assumptions. He emphasizes that he was first to suggest that they were moving too fast.

And then, once he gets going, he can’t seem to stop himself. He tells Lucifer _everything_. He hasn’t really talked about the crazy things to anyone else as much as he’s wanted (needed) to.

He mentions his initial terror at seeing Maze’s face. The shock of seeing Amenadiel’s wings. The staggering truth about Charlotte having been possessed by the Goddess of All Creation.

And, the revelation that Chloe is a _miracle_. How that makes him feel like even more of a piece of shit for not stopping himself from succumbing to his baser urges when he knew that doing so might hurt others.

He says he’s been afraid to talk about all of it because he fears that if he does, he’ll end up totally alone by the end of it—and how awful that thought truly is.

Admitting that last part out loud surprises Dan. He didn’t realize that he was so afraid of being alone.

The silence on the other side of the pillows makes him certain that it’s going to be his fate regardless. He waits, feeling tense.

And then, of all things, he hears something that makes no sense.

He sits up and pulls down the top pillow to find Lucifer chuckling to himself. Dan wants to yell at him, but he does take notice that the corners of Lucifer’s eyes are wet with recently shed tears.

So it _did_ hurt his feelings.

Still, Dan can’t help but be confused. “Why are you laughing, man?”

Lucifer shakes his head and stifles his laughter, holding his hand up. “It’s not you, it’s the situation. I mean, it’s all so clear to me now.”

“What are you talking about?”

He clears his throat. “Well, it’s no surprise really that Mum got to you first—She’d just escaped from several millennia of damnation by Her own Husband—I’m sure you were an excellent distraction for Her wounded ego. And I suppose the same goes for me—I can’t bear the thought of being denied—clearly, it runs in the family. And now your ex-wife, the only woman I’ve ever truly loved and my Father’s little miracle…”

Lucifer turns his head and gazes at Dan with an unmistakable look of pity in his eyes. “In my all my time on Earth, I’ve never come across a human who’s been cast with such an unsettling position as rebound to the divine and the divinely blessed.” He bursts into laughter again.

Dan stares at him, totally at a loss for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear some Dan/Lucifer sexy times are definitely fucking happening in Chapter 13. Can you hold out? Will this do for the moment? Are you still with me? 
> 
> I'm a fun mess. No wonder Dan is easy to write XD


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex. And talking. And more sex. And more talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I am so sorry this didn't make it to Saturday! I hope it's worth the wait. 
> 
> This is by far the longest chapter in the story at the moment. I probably worked way too hard on it. Hopefully there are little to no mistakes or inconsistencies. Anyhow, enough talk. Enjoy!

Dan pinches the bridge of his nose. He sighs and nods slowly, “Yeah, ok. This,” he gestures to Lucifer, “isn’t helping right now.”

The Devil stops laughing but maintains his grin and waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, stop being so dramatic! You have to admit, it is absolutely absurd.”

“Yeah, yeah it is. But I think you’re avoiding taking this seriously because you don’t want to admit that what I did is affecting you.”

“What? You mean this?” Lucifer traces the tearstain down the side of his jaw. He looks away from Dan and frowns. “Of course it affected me, Daniel; I’m not made of stone.” He sighs through his nostrils. “I just don’t see what you want me to do about it.”

Dan grits his teeth and throws his hands up. “I don’t know, be angry at me, maybe?”

“I’m touched that you think you’ve done something so reprehensible that I should punish you for it,” he points at Dan, “And don’t deny it, that’s exactly what you’re trying to get me to do. But, it won’t work. I punish the guilty, not the stupidly horny.”

“I don’t understand—how can you be ok with this?”

“Because it’s what Chloe wants!” Lucifer snaps.

He runs a hand through his perfectly-styled dark hair, mussing it a bit, and steadies his voice. “The Detective is free to do what she likes with whomever she wishes. My only wish is for her to be happy. And,” he looks down for a moment before flicking his gaze back up to Dan thoughtfully. “Rebound or not, I’m glad it’s with you.”

Dan’s voice comes out softly. “You mean that?”

A bright smile spreads on Lucifer’s face. “Of course, I always mean what I say.”

While Dan is relieved that he hasn’t been outright murdered for being a total idiot, he still feels like he shouldn’t be rewarded for going behind Lucifer’s back. He doesn’t feel very deserving of anything right now.

But it’s not up to him to decide. He lets his gaze fall down to the bed sheets. “So, what happens now?”

Lucifer doesn’t answer him right away.

Seconds tick by, and with each passing moment, Dan gets more and more worried.

When Lucifer finally speaks, his tone is surprisingly cautious. “Do you want to rekindle things with the Detective?”

A concerned look scrunches his brow. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I mean, I think I do, but…after last time, I’m a little gun-shy.”

The Devil nods. He draws out the silence again, and then asks, “Do you want to continue things with me?”

“Oh, now that I’m sure about,” Dan says, smiling broadly.

“Really? I know I’m irresistible, but what else makes you more certain about me than the Detective?”

Dan makes a bold move. He pushes the last of the pillows out of the way and takes Lucifer’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It feels natural, easy. He’s grateful for that, even though he is still confused as to why it feels the way it does. But he knows he wants to find out.

He meets Lucifer’s eyes, unflinching. “I don’t think you’d invest this much energy in me if I was just a rebound to you.”

“Bout bloody time you came to your senses,” Lucifer purrs. He swiftly cups the side of Dan’s face with his free hand and closes the space between them with a deep, open-mouthed kiss.

Dan’s heart aches just a little from the tenderness of the moment. He still doesn’t feel he deserves this level of patience and understanding. But he’ll take it. After the rollercoaster that’s been his love life for the last few years, he’s just grateful for the opportunity to have someone to be close to again.

Keeping their lips locked together, he pushes forward and gets Lucifer to lie back down. Their bodies press together. Lucifer rolls his hips upward, brushing his hardened excitement against Dan’s stomach.

It immediately makes him reflexively twitch, but in a good way. He decides to run with that, and slips his hand between them and clutches both of their cocks with his fist.

Lucifer inhales sharply through his nose. Dan can feel him smiling as they continue to taste each other.

He starts moving his hand back and forth, and discovers the sensation a lot more intense than he’d expected. He pulls his mouth away, pressing their foreheads together as a gasp escapes his lips.

He feels oddly worked up, like he hadn’t realized just how much he needed this. Lucifer rocks up against him slowly, setting a pace for them even though Dan is the one moving his hand.

The Devil’s body beneath him feels so warm that it’s creating a fine layer of sweat between them, and it’s making Dan’s grip slippery. They both start panting as he increases pressure.

Combined with Lucifer’s slow and steady thrusts, the friction is almost too much—and yet he doesn’t want to stop. It feels so fucking good. The different textures in his hand send a unique thrill up his spine.

His other hand is still locked with Lucifer’s. They’re both gripping tightly, unwilling to let go.

Suddenly, Lucifer lets out a small sound and fiercely takes hold of the back of Dan’s neck with his other hand. His nails bite. The pain is sharp and invigorating.

Dan groans and keeps pumping their cocks together.

Lucifer flicks his tongue out, seeking Dan’s mouth. They kiss again, this time more hungrily. The Devil starts thrusting faster, Dan’s sweat-slicked hand easily moving to match the change in pace.

Their clenched hands start to shake. Dan feels a trickle of sweat dance down the center of his back. As if sensing it, Lucifer’s nails follow the trail. A swift, shivering sting of pain runs through Dan’s body and he tears his mouth away to cry out.

He moves his fist faster, so close to his release. He can feel Lucifer’s body tensing beneath him, knows he’s almost there, too. Pressure builds. Dan squeezes his eyes shut. Before he can stop himself, he whispers raggedly, “Lucifer.”

“Daniel,” he exhales.

Their orgasm hits them both in the same instant, each man unleashing a strangled noise through his throat that ends in a sharp, gasping breath.

Barely able to keep from collapsing on top of him, Dan manages to slug his body down to Lucifer’s side and rests his head on his chest.

He unlocks his grip on their hands and slides his palm over the other man’s stomach, feeling the sticky mess they made. He quickly rolls backwards to grab some tissues from his nightstand and without even asking, cleans Lucifer off.

Dan’s out of breath, feeling genuinely exhausted. His back is covered in sweat—his front, too. And Lucifer is still incredibly warm to the touch. And—and his nostrils are picking up on a scent—a male musk that is distinctly not his own.

He suddenly lifts his head up, races his eyes over Lucifer’s body from head to toe, and then looks around his room. It’s not dim and out of focus.

He thinks he noticed something was amiss earlier, but it was so insignificant compared to their conversation at the time that he just brushed it off.

When his gaze finally moves back to Lucifer, the look on his face is, of all things, _devilish_. “Oh dear, looks like I’ve been found out.”

Dan’s hand slowly moves up Lucifer’s chest, feeling it— _really_ feeling it. He furrows his brow. “You’re really here. But I thought—.”

“—just for tonight,” he hastens. “The first time was rash, I’ll admit, but it was only for a moment. This time I made sure I was prepared; I called in a favor—on your behalf, might I add, so it’s damn good things turned out the way they did.”

He stares at Lucifer incredulously. “Could we back up to the part about you actually being here, right now? When did that happen?”

Lucifer rolls his eyes and gestures with one hand. “Well I _thought_ it was obvious once we changed scenery from your delightful little fantasy to this ghastly display you call a bedroom. I should have told you to stay at Lux if I’d known how cramped and sadly decorated this place _actually_ was in person.” He waves his hand towards the only wall that has anything on it. “Four walls and you leave all of them blank save for one that holds three surfboards and a piece of metal in the shape of a shark? You are absolutely the most boring surfer I’ve ever known.”

Even now (especially now), Dan gets a small rise from Lucifer’s jibes. He’s not sure why or how they became a turn on, but he does his best to ignore it in favor of the situation at hand.

“Ok, first off, Lux is a historical landmark that you turned into a hugely successful, upscale nightclub—it’s not a one bedroom apartment in West Hollywood. I’m not even gonna argue with you over my choice in décor—my house, my style, and you haven’t even seen the rest of my place. Second, is that why you told me to close my eyes? Would I have freaked out or something?”

“Certainly not! You’re actually closer to waking up when you’re dreaming than when you’re sound asleep. I merely thought it might make it easier if I told you to close your eyes so your mind had a transitory point to work from.”

“Wait, ‘ _might make it easier’?_ Are you telling me you’d never done that before?”

“Well there’s a first time for everything.”

“What if something went wrong? What if I _did_ freak out?”

“Then I’m sure it would have made for some very interesting sex.”

Dan’s blood is rising and he is two seconds away from either kissing Lucifer or screaming at him.

It’s strange. All of this is strange. But he’s been through worse. And weirder (ok, maybe not). Still, it doesn’t do him any good if he gets an angry erection when he’s trying to have a conversation. One problem at a time.

Dan counts to five, sighs and asks, “So who’s in charge while you’re gone?”

“My brother, of course.”

“Amenadiel? How did you convince him to do it?”

“I told him if he didn’t help me then I couldn’t help you,” Lucifer says with a shrug.

Shaking his head Dan points out, “He just became a father. I can’t imagine he’d leave Linda and Charlie alone that easily.”

He smirks. “You’re forgetting the demonic half of the equation. Mazikeen is keeping watch over Doctor Linda and her offspring until Amenadiel returns. I told you, I prepared for this. You’re lucky that whole lot likes you so much, otherwise I don’t know if I would’ve been able to pull it off.”

Clearly, a lot of effort was put into making this happen between them. Dan’s grateful, but puzzled. His brow creases. “What are you getting out of all of this?” Lucifer opens his mouth to answer when Dan quickly adds, “And don’t say it’s the sex—we both know it’s not just about that.”

Lucifer rolls onto his side to face him directly and huffs, “We made a deal, Daniel. Or don’t you remember? Is there a medical term for humans who suffer memory loss every time they have a wank? I’ve heard of ‘cum-dumb’ but this is quite serious.”

Dan glares at him. “Serious? You can’t even answer my question seriously!”

“ _I did!_ ” Lucifer insists. “This is what I do, it’s who I am. I grant people their desires, they repay me, end of story.”

“Just like that, huh? Done deal and out of your life?”

“Try the other way around—it’s all of you who get me out of yours as soon as your debt’s been fulfilled.”

Every time Dan thinks he’s got it all figured out, he realizes just how little he understands until it’s too late and he looks like an asshole. It’s no wonder Chloe isn’t affected by Lucifer; if she were she probably would never have spent the time and effort to get to know him as well as she had. Maybe that’s why she’s the only woman he’s ever loved—because there was room for that feeling to grow in the first place.

When he looks at it like that, Dan feels even worse for being just like everybody else. But he doesn’t want to be like that, deal or no deal. Everyone deserves a fair chance at a good thing—even the Devil.

And whatever the hell this thing is between them, Dan isn’t going to jump to conclusions, but he knows the signs, sees what’s happening. There’s definitely something developing.

He wishes he could promise Lucifer that what they’re doing isn’t solely because of the deal they made, but he doesn’t think he’d believe him. And why should he? Who’s to say that once Dan pays his debt that he won’t move on like everyone else?

That’s when he gets an idea. He licks his lower lip in thought and then says, “What if I’m different?”

Lucifer’s brow knits together curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a romantic magnet for celestials, friends with a demon and an angel—and was married to a miracle. _And_ I’m _really_ good at making my prayers heard. Is that really all a coincidence?”

He stares at Dan quietly for a moment. “Do you recall that massacre at the yoga studio? Where everyone went Norman Bates on each other?”

Dan rolls his eyes, “Hard to forget a case like that.”

Lucifer says his next words carefully, “Do you also remember that the mystery blade was never recovered?”

“Yeah,” Dan says slowly. His gut immediately sends a signal to him—a reminder that there was something definitely _off_ about that case—in more ways than one. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“I suppose I might as well tell you—though you’re not going to like it. That blade is one of the most powerful weapons in the universe. It’s capable of wiping out celestials and demons from existence, and in the hands of mortals, drives them to murder anyone within range.”

A sickening feeling starts to course through Dan’s veins. He feels cold and vulnerable all of a sudden. He remembers standing beside Lucifer, near a swimming pool at the final crime scene for that case. He was bleeding.

Dan struggles to remember more about that moment, and it’s like he’s missing a small chunk of time. He remembers going to the house and seeing a body with a knife of some kind still lodged in the chest. Then he was outside and later found out that the blade had gone missing.

As if his brain hadn’t had enough mindfucks for one week…

His gaze tightens at the corners of his eyes and his voice comes out a little strained. “Did I try to kill you?”

Lucifer’s hand quickly moves to cup the side of Dan’s face. “But you didn’t succeed. You actually fought the blade’s power. I was able to talk you down enough to take it from you and you recovered immediately.”

“How could I do that? I mean, I didn’t like you back then, but I never actually wanted you _dead!_ ”

“Yes, I know—I knew it then, too. But that’s beside the point. Daniel, what you did, or rather, didn’t do, was exceptional by even divine standards. In fact, the first time I used my charms on you, you resisted them. But I had my own problems to deal with at the time; deciphering the nature of your unusual strength of will just wasn’t that high on my to-do list.” He strokes his hand through Dan’s hair, looking at him thoughtfully. “I see now what a mistake that was. If I had paid closer attention to what set you apart from others, maybe you wouldn’t have grown to hate me or yourself so much. For that, I am sorry.”

Dan feels awful—on so many levels.

He’s never been proud of the people he’s had to kill (or had killed). He just felt it was the only right answer at the time. Even when he was in the bottom of his downward spiral and thought he wanted Lucifer dead, there was still a part of him he had to silence, because in his heart he knew it was wrong.

He hates that he can’t remember feeling the desire to kill Lucifer well before he started to fall apart. He hates even more that he just got an apology from a man who’s known for making no apologies for almost anything he does.

Feeling angry at himself, Dan does the only thing that makes sense. He snuggles in close to Lucifer, who readily wraps his arms around him.

He tries to concentrate on the facts, rather than the self-speculation. “So with that information added to what we already know, where does that point us?”

Lucifer smiles at him. “Oh, are we working a case together, now, Detective Espinoza? I do miss consulting for the LAPD, believe it or not. Even the dullest crimes often provided something worth thinking about.”

Dan smirks at him. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s all you thought about when you were ‘working’ for us.” One of Lucifer’s hands that are wrapped over Dan’s shoulder lifts to flick the back of his ear. “Owe!” he exclaims, still smiling.

“I’m _serious_. Anyway, in answer to your question, unfortunately, I’m not sure. I have a few theories, but without some real digging, I’m afraid it’s all just terribly loose guesswork.”

“So then we get digging,” Dan asserts. “You tell me where to start and what to look for and I’ll take it from there.”

The Devil makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “I like your enthusiasm. It’ll be just like old times when we’ve worked together: you do all the grunt work and I’ll do what I do best.”

“You mean look sexy, do nothing, and stumble onto a clue?”

“Or say something so bloody clever that it gets that thick skull of yours to start working properly and we end up solving the case before the day is over,” Lucifer says delightedly.

Dan shakes his head and laughs softly, “How do I put up with you?”

Lucifer nudges against Dan’s groin and brushes their lips together. “I’ll give you one guess, but I warn you, the answer is quite _hard_.”

Feeling his own arousal starting to rise, Dan speaks between kisses. “I told you—this is not—just about—the sex.”

A warm chuckle escapes the Devil’s lips. He slows down their kissing and pulls back to speak. “You’re right. In fact, we should probably, to quote you, ‘start taking this more seriously.’”

Dan frowns at him lightly. “You mean our,” he can’t help but hesitate on the word, “relationship?”

Lucifer narrows his gaze at him and the corner of his mouth curves into a smile. “Precisely. Remember, this is about getting you to see your own worth as a person. If I was to dote on you needlessly, lavish you with compliments and encouragement at every turn, you’d question why because you already don’t think you’re deserving of it—in other words, it hasn’t been earned and therefore can’t be trusted.”

“You’ve actually thought about this, haven’t you?” Dan asks, genuinely impressed and surprised.

“In case you’ve forgotten, in Hell, I have all the time I want to ruminate. And, if I’m being fair—since I am a Devil humble enough to give credit where credit is due—I may have made a few inquiries with some of Hell’s more knowledgeable residents.”

He stares at Lucifer. “You asked damned souls for relationship advice?”

“Well, ‘asked’ is a bit of a stretch, but there’s no need to go into the details. The important thing is that I learned quite a lot and I’m confident that I know how to proceed.”

Dan’s not sure he’d want to know the specifics even if Lucifer was willing to give them. He’s learned (very quickly), that there are just some things he either doesn’t want to know, or that he can ask about later—when he’s not so caught up in whatever weirdness is happening at the moment.

He clears his throat and gives resolute nod. “Ok, so then what’s the plan?”

The Devil grins and says excitedly, “It involves _lots_ and _lots_ of sex!”

Dan rolls his eyes (even though he’s very intrigued). “Of course it does. But how is it supposed to help?”

“Remember when I wondered if you could do better?”

“Like you’d let me forget.”

“Never,” Lucifer quips brightly. “Anyway, I’ve heard it said that you can’t rightly expect to give love to someone else without first loving yourself. And in order to do that, I’ve found that you simply need to recognize what you have to offer others that you can be proud of.”

Unable to avoid it, Dan is reminded of all the times that he focused on work over Chloe and Trixie, and how much that damaged his relationship to both of them. His mind takes a sharp turn and reminds him of all the times he wanted so much to do what he thought was right that it ended in one mistake after another.

He thinks he knows where this is going, but still, he has to ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Lucifer presses his body up against Dan’s suggestively. He tilts his head forward so that their lips brush each other again. His voice drops low, coming out smooth and deadly. “I want to see what it’s like when Dan Espinoza puts his all into caring about someone other than himself.”

Dan can’t help but feel a little afraid. He asks softly, “What if I fuck it up? Again? Not even twenty-four hours passed when you suggested we make this a thing and look what happened.”

Patiently, Lucifer shakes his head and flicks his tongue over Dan’s lips. He snakes his hands down his back, exploring with his fingertips. “I’m not counting that. Besides, my suggestion was just that—and you hadn’t agreed to it yet. You still haven’t, technically.”

Arching his back, Dan draws in a breath. He lets his hand wander over Lucifer’s torso, feeling the acute warmth of his skin. Cautiously, he asks, “Do you want me to?”

Lucifer’s dick rubs against the crook of Dan’s thigh. One of his hands moves down the curve of his ass, squeezing gingerly. He smiles and delicately nuzzles Dan’s nose with his own. “Are you nervous about doing so?”

Dan feels compelled to answer him honestly. He nods, “ _Very_.”

“Then give me an answer.”

Dan’s voice suddenly feels caught in his throat. He’s starting to lose focus with everything that Lucifer is doing to him and his stomach feels fluttery. If he commits to this, then he has to really mean it this time. He’s still afraid of ruining it.

In a moment of desperation, unable to find his words, he closes his eyes and concentrates on everything that he’s feeling. He gathers it all up and thinks of Lucifer, centers on exactly what he wants him to hear, what he wants him to feel.

Dan wants this. He’s all in, whatever it takes, just like he promised.

Lucifer inhales sharply and a chuckle shudders out. “That’s cheating. But I accept. I suppose I only have one question left to ask.” His grip on Dan’s ass tightens, and his hips jut more firmly against him.

A groan fights its way out of Dan’s mouth, his nails press against Lucifer’s thigh. “Ask it.”

“Would you let me be inside you?”

The question makes Dan go still.

He’s thought about it before—and not just with Lucifer, but in the past, when he was younger. He experimented a handful of times by himself, with mixed results. But honestly, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing then and shame and embarrassment got the better of him before he ever took it very far.

Even though he’s basically paralyzed in thought, Dan notices that his cock is still hard—straining, in fact. At least the shame and embarrassment are no longer the strong factors they used to be.

Lucifer hasn’t moved, either. He’s just held still—Dan can scarcely tell if he’s breathing or not. He’s grateful to him for his patience in this moment. It means that he cares.

And that thought alone makes Dan want to give back the same level of feeling.

He turns away just long enough to grab a bottle of lube and a condom from his nightstand, rolls back to face Lucifer, and props up on one elbow.

Recognizing the mood has grown tense, he cracks a small smile. “Tell the truth: this is the real reason you wanted to be here in person, isn’t it?”

Effortlessly able to switch gears, Lucifer is suddenly animate again, mirroring Dan’s position as he lifts his chin defiantly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to plead the fifth, Detective Espinoza. You won’t get an answer out of me that easily!”

Dan’s grin widens. He keeps his gaze on Lucifer while chucking him the condom and pumping some of the lube into his own hand. He gets up on his knees and starts stroking himself slowly. “So you wanna play hardball, huh? Maybe we could work out an arrangement—you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Lucifer looks positively elated by the way the conversation is turning. He swiftly gets on his knees and coaxes Dan onto his back with the lightest push of his hand. “It’s going to take a lot more than a few scratches to convince me to talk!” He flicks the foil package into view like turning a card in his fingers. “Strictly a courtesy for humans, not necessary for me, being an immortal. Still want me to put it on?”

Dan jerks his head to the side. “Toss it.”

The Devil does just that and looks at him like he wants to devour him. “Oh, now there’s something worth bargaining for.” He leans forward, deftly gathering some lube with one of his hands, the other bracing on the bed beside Dan’s shoulder. His slicked up hand moves between Dan’s legs, out of sight. “How ‘bout it, Detective Espinoza? Care to up the stakes on our arrangement?”

Continuing his steady but slow strokes, Dan raises his eyebrows curiously. “What did you have in mind?”

Two of Lucifer’s fingers creep up against Dan’s opening. “Scream for me, and I’ll sing for you like a canary. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He presses his lips to Dan’s inner thigh and slowly slips one digit inside.

A raw sound leaves Dan’s throat and he tosses his head back. “ _Fuck_. Yes. Yeah, that can be arranged.” He starts pumping himself faster.

“Good,” Lucifer coos. His tone changes, edging towards the sound of a command. “Now stop touching yourself.”

Dan obeys before he even thinks to object. He wants to look at him but is suddenly overcome with a deliciously intense feeling when Lucifer starts stroking him from the inside.

He squeezes his eyes shut and shudders. It’s almost too much.

Movement happens above him, and Lucifer’s voice, very soft and close to his ear, whispers to relax, to breathe. His bristly cheek nuzzles his jaw; his lips plant gentle kisses along his neck.

Gradually, Dan steadies his breathing. His body stops tensing. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

“Daniel,” Lucifer beckons. “Open your eyes.”

He does, and sees Lucifer’s face very near his own. He’s managed to settle on his left forearm on the bed, his knees between Dan’s legs, and his right arm moving back and forth slowly.

His dark brown eyes look almost black in the low light of the bedroom. But the expression is clear: he’s exercising a great deal of concentration and caution. “Do you want more?”

Dan pants softly while Lucifer works his finger in and out of him. It feels way better than when he tried it on himself. But that makes sense—Lucifer has him beat on experience.

He reaches up and threads his fingers through Lucifer’s hair. “I want you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he replies, and slips a second finger into Dan’s ass, making him arch his back. Lucifer presses their lips together; all tongue and a bit of teeth.

They continue on like this for some time, Lucifer steadily working his fingers, while the occasional moan finds its way out of Dan’s mouth. His hard-on has flagged a little, but he doesn’t even care and he thinks that’s the point. Lucifer wants him focused on other sensations.

He revels in them, his hand gripping Lucifer’s hair tightly every time his prostate gets a nudge. It’s a little overwhelming when it happens, but Lucifer is careful not to overdo it, concentrating more on opening him up and keeping him relaxed.

He can hear the Devil’s breathing getting ragged with lust. Clearly, he’s held back from doing anything further, and Dan realizes that maybe he’s waiting for a sign.

He decides to give movement a try and rocks his hips in rhythm with Lucifer’s hand. Immediately he’s surprised with more sensation, and he has to tear his mouth away and gasp.

Lucifer slows his pace until he’s just resting his fingers inside Dan. He begins sliding out one digit at a time, watching as he twitches.

“Tell me, Daniel,” he insists. He reaches for the lube and adds a generous amount into his palm. “I want to hear you say it.” He coats his erection and slides his upper body backwards, curving his free hand beneath Dan’s backside as he repositions himself.

They stare at each other, Lucifer’s eyes strangely bright even in the darkness of the room. Dan’s lips feel dry. His heart is pounding. “I want you inside me.”

Lucifer lift’s Dan’s hips single-handedly. He works his way in; just the tip at first, taking note of Dan’s pronounced reaction as he tries to thrust upwards. Lucifer’s grip on him keeps him from getting very far.

The Devil utters a shaky sigh and smiles openly. “No need to rush. We’ll get there.”

Between gasping breaths, Dan laughs softly, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lucifer intones lustfully. He gathers some more lube and slathers it over himself, then inches forward carefully. “Never apologize for what brings you pleasure. I only want this to last.”

Dan moans, tilting his head to the side. One of his hands is gripping the sheets tightly; his other is digging nails into his own thigh—dutifully ignoring his cock, which has grown hard again and is seeping at the tip.

The entire sight sends Lucifer over the edge and he growls, “To Hell with it,” and smoothly pushes his full length inside.

Both of them let forth loud, guttural sounds from their throats. Lucifer starts working into a rhythm, pumping his hips forward. Dan grits his teeth, groaning without restraint, his sheets balled up in both fists.

Lucifer looks down at him, his black hair breaking into jagged, damp points that tap against his head as he thrusts. He watches Dan writhe, completely giving in to every sensation.

He spits into his free hand and takes hold of Dan’s cock, starts stroking, and is immediately rewarded with a licentious whine.

Dan bucks his hips forward, working himself in Lucifer’s hand. He doesn’t care if he goes quickly. He wants to come. He wants to come for Lucifer. He wants to feel him come, too. Fuck, he wants it so bad.

Without realizing it, Dan’s mind carries those thoughts into the ether. Lucifer sucks in a breath suddenly. He’s stunned for a second, and then emits a dark laugh through clenched teeth. “Oh, you naughty little thing,” he snarls, and kicks up the pace.

Dan shudders helplessly, overcome with sensation and drunk on how good it feels. “Don’t stop,” he begs, “ _Please._ ”

Lucifer obliges.

Their bodies smack together wetly. Heat fills the space around them. Sweat dews on their skin.

Lucifer’s breathing starts to hitch, getting close. He increases his pace on Dan’s cock, feeling the flesh straining for release. He slows down his thrusts just enough to draw almost all the way out only to slam back inside.

Dan arches his back, swearing loudly, taking all of Lucifer proudly and giving as good as he gets, keeping rhythm with his thrusts. And then an electric feeling pulses through him, and he’s coming into Lucifer’s hand as he cries out, his whole body shaking.

His reaction brings Lucifer over the edge. A strangled noise rips from his mouth and he presses his groin tightly against Dan’s ass, wave after wave of his orgasm jolting through him until it ends with one final, full-body shudder.

Both men are breathing heavily, unwilling to move.

After about a minute of coming down, Lucifer carefully withdraws, inch by inch. Dan is unable to keep from giving a soft whimper when he does this. Lucifer reaches one long arm across and grabs some tissues and cleans Dan up.

He lies down beside him and sighs contentedly as he settles in, resting his head on his fist, his elbow propping him up. “Please tell me that your shower has room for two.”

The sex high is a good one, and makes Dan grin stupidly. He turns his head to face him and laughs. “C’mon man, I’m gonna need like, at least twenty minutes before I can be up for anything again.”

Lucifer laughs with him. “Not for sex, Daniel, just for a refresher before you invariably have to go to sleep.”

The pleasant look slides away from Dan’s face. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

Long, slender fingers caress Dan’s cheek. “You’ll have to eventually, you know.”

“How much longer can you stay?” Dan asks, suddenly regretting the question. He doesn’t want to know the answer.

Lucifer seems to sense that and looks at him a little sadly. “I promised Amenadiel I’d return after you had fallen asleep. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how tonight would go. I didn’t expect to regret that promise as much as I do now.”

Dan glances away for a moment. When he looks back, he creases his brow. “How bad would it be if you cheated a little?”

A bemused look crosses Lucifer’s gaze. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, you said you promised him you’d go back after I’d fallen asleep. Who says I have to go to sleep right away?”

Lucifer smiles at him. “Daniel Espinoza, are you actually suggesting we bend the rules? On a work night no less? You really do get cum-dumb, don’t you?”

As if confirming it, Dan giggles and loosely punches Lucifer in the shoulder. “You like it.”

“Guilty as charged,” Lucifer rolls his eyes.

“And I was right, wasn’t I? About why you had to come here in person.”

He moves in close and nuzzles Dan’s cheek with his nose. “I did say I’d sing for you, didn’t I? Yes, it was certainly part of my plan to have my way with you for real. But I also believed the best way to show you that I was serious was to make a grand gesture of it.”

Dan reaches up and holds the side of Lucifer’s face, gives him a kiss. “Well it worked.” He clears his throat and the somber tone returns in his voice. “So, really, how long can you stay?”

Lucifer is quiet for a moment. When he finally answers Dan, he sighs. “As much as I’d love to bend the rules with you—break them, even—I made a promise to him, Daniel. And you know I keep my promises.”

Dan lets go of a breath he’d been holding in. “Yeah, I know.”

“Besides, if I prove to him that I’m taking this seriously to the point that I _don’t_ bend any rules, he might just be inclined to do it again. Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Dan echoes.

Silence falls between them as they lie side by side. Dan doesn’t want to sleep, but he feels exhaustion tugging at him with a vengeance, having been shirked the last several hours in favor of sex, fighting, and more sex.

His eyelids droop. A yawn escapes him. He groans bitterly. “Damn it.”

Lucifer chuckles and pulls his arm. “C’mon, up you go. Let’s have a shower. You can complain in my arms like a spoiled infant afterwards.”

“Shut up,” Dan says halfheartedly, following him into the bathroom.

In a patronizing tone, Lucifer hums, “Oh, someone’s quite cranky.” He turns on the water, his gaze silently judging the dimensions of the shower.

“Fuck you, man,” Dan says, smiling.

Lucifer tests the temperature and is pleased to discover that the tap has on-demand hot water. He glances back at Dan, “When you’re being less of a child, perhaps. I’ve never been keen on infantilism.” He steps inside.

Dan furrows his brow and gets in behind him. “Infanti—you know what? No, I don’t want to know.”

That gets a smirk from Lucifer and he pulls Dan against him beneath the water. “Good. We can focus on other things instead.”

Despite how nice Lucifer’s skin feels against him right now, Dan knows when he’s done. He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m good for much right now.”

“Then just hold me.”

“Never thought I’d hear something like that come from _you_ ,” Dan says without thinking. He immediately regrets it, but doesn’t know what to do. He looks away.

Lucifer moves them forward a little so that the water stream hits the back of his shoulders. He presses their foreheads together, his jaw tightens. “I meant what I said, Daniel. I want to see what you can do when you really let yourself care about someone else. It’s all part of the plan. So aside from lavishing me with your physical gifts, I need to experience the emotional ones, too. Once you feel like you can do that without being guided, then you can move on.”

Something about Lucifer’s words cut deep. Dan keeps getting so caught up in what they’re doing that he sometimes forgets that this is not meant to be permanent. Does he want it to be? Why the hell is his mind even going there?

He thinks about Charlotte, and how easy it was that he fell for her because he was open to it—wanted it bad enough. He thinks about the being that inhabited Charlotte’s body—the Goddess of All Creation—and how there was something there, too. He remembers when he first met Chloe, and that it was even easier with her because there was a time when they fit together just right.

Maybe that’s just how he operates. Maybe, when the time is right, things align and he doesn’t know how to stop them, doesn’t want to, even. It’s definitely something he needs to think about more in depth.

But right now, he’s got something else to focus on. Deal or no deal, Lucifer is right: if he really wants to make this work, he needs to share all of himself and be more receptive to those he cares about. In this moment, it happens to be Lucifer Morningstar.

He wraps his hands around Lucifer’s back, rests his head against his chest, and holds him tightly. It still feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you liked this. Prepare for some serious plot heavy elements relating to the case in the next chapter. And I will do my best to actually get it posted sometime Saturday. At the very least I hope this one was satisfying enough. And by no means is this anywhere near the end, just so you know.
> 
> There is so much planned for this story. Oh man. I am excited. Thank you for reading!!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our team continues working on the case! It get's weirder. Dan and Chloe have some new developments, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning to you all! Here's another longish chapter. Enjoy!

The following morning, Dan wakes up naturally.

In a small panic, he scrambles to reach for his phone just to make sure he didn’t screw up and oversleep. It’s a few minutes after ten and his shift is at 11. It usually takes him about twenty minutes with traffic to get to work.

He throws himself out of bed and runs through a short-cut version of his routine: skip the workout, shower, shave, skip breakfast, clothes, keys, wallet, out the door, in the car, and on the road just after ten-thirty.

Dan drums his fingers across his steering wheel, feeling fucking great—apart from his backside feeling pretty damn sore—but that just goes back to why he’s feeling so good.

After their shared shower, Dan and Lucifer had curled up in bed. As much as he had wanted to stay conscious, once under the covers, Dan was fighting off sleep almost immediately. Lucifer was no help, being so warm and surprisingly affectionate.

He had spooned Dan from behind, his arms around him. While stroking one of his hands through his hair, Lucifer lulled him to sleep with a story about a Spanish soldier he had befriended that Dan reminded him of. Dan thinks it was a nice story, but he can’t really remember most of it.

Although he was disappointed to wake up alone this morning, at least he knew to expect it. It doesn’t feel as bad as he thought it would—but part of that is thanks to relieving _a lot_ of tension, both physical and emotional. He finally feels like he has a handle on the situation. He’s also kind of excited by starting something new.

His good feeling rides along with him all the way to the precinct. It’s only after he walks inside and sees Chloe already at her desk that his heart stops, and so do his feet. She doesn’t see him staring at her yet.

He silently admonishes himself for being selfish. He’d become so caught up in thoughts of starting something new and exciting with Lucifer that he forgot that Chloe is still very much a part of the equation.

He feels like a total asshole. What the hell is he going to say to her? Lucifer didn’t actually tell him he couldn’t keep seeing her. In fact, he sort of gave his blessing (does the Devil do blessings? Or would that be damnings?)

Conflicting emotions start piling up in droves. It’s all he can do to shut them out of his mind and try to think and act quickly. He knows he can’t just stand in the middle of the place staring like an idiot.

Dan works to shake off his troubled attitude in favor of trying to play it cool and walks towards her. He can do this. He can talk to her. He knows her. She’ll listen, just so long as he handles it appropriately.

There’s got to be a way that he can make this work and still make those he cares about happy. He’s interested (eager) in developing something with Lucifer. He’s interested (nervous) to start things back up with Chloe. He doesn’t know if he’s capable of sharing himself like that.

He knows it’s something Lucifer can handle, but Chloe…she’s not possessive, exactly, and she and him were both fine with seeing other people while they were separated—which Dan knows is totally not the same thing, but…

Chloe looks up at him with a smile; it doesn’t reach her eyes. She has her guard up.

_Damn it._

He has no clue how to talk about this. “Hey—.”

“—look, Dan, about last night,” she cuts him off suddenly, dropping what little pleasantries she was holding onto. She is clearly ready to let this all go up in smoke.

He’s not.

“—yeah,” he jumps right back in, smiling warmly, hoping to stop her from running away. “Chlo, before you say anything, I just want to say—.”

“—hey guys!” Ella says, approaching with her usual pep-in-her-step approach. She immediately halts in place when she gets close, clearly sensing the tension between them. “Whoa, am I interrupting?”

Always willing jump right back to work, Chloe clears her throat and pulls off a pleasant tone. “No, what’s up, Ella?”

Ms. Lopez glances at Dan, who tightens his lips together and averts his eyes. She looks back to Chloe and starts talking rapidly. “Ok, so, something weird came up and it’s totally on me that I didn’t catch it the first time, but, maybe you guys can help me make sense of it if you wanna, you know, drop whatever not-so-subtle awkward conversation you were having that I interrupted and see what I’ve got?”

They silently agree and follow her to the lab.

The forensic scientist stands at the end of the table, two pieces of evidence on a backlit tray in front of her. “Alright, so when I first went through the gore pile under the vic, there was a piece of latex glove stuck under the spleen. At first I didn’t think anything of it, thought maybe a uni snapped off a piece when putting on their gloves and it just fell into the pile.”

Dan crosses his arms over his chest. “But nitrile gloves are standard issue; latex stopped being used years ago on account of skin allergies.”

Ella points at him, “Exactly! Still, I made a mistake and assumed that someone just preferred latex and had their own pair. But _then_ , when going through the rest of the boxes with the crazy-expensive tiles, I found this,” she points to a container with a tiny piece of off-white material inside.

Chloe narrows her eyes, “Is that from the same glove?”

“Technically, I have no way to prove that it _is_ , but I’m gonna go with a hard _probably_ on account that it’s just too much of a coincidence to ignore.”

“So we think the killer maybe lost part of the glove in the pile and also in the storage container,” Decker says, nodding. Then she pauses and frowns. “But why would he do that? Did it seem like any of the tiles were missing?”

Ella shrugs. “Not really. Before we even got them out of the shipping container I counted all of them—based on the way the tiles were packed, it looked pretty obvi that what was there was everything. The only boxes that showed any signs of tampering were the one that you opened and the one where I found the other piece of latex.”

Dan shifts in place, thinking. “So, the killer just took a peek but didn’t take anything, then gets into some sort of altercation with Cortez, enough that he cleans his fingers professionally, but then loses more of the same glove in the pile and doesn’t notice?” He shakes his head. “This is just getting weirder.”

Chloe turns on her heels to him, her index finger wagging as she comes up with an idea. “What if it was done on purpose?”

He stares down at her. “What? You mean like to throw us off?”

She nods. “What if the finger-cleaning wasn’t planned, but the glove was? Like a—.”

Ella cuts her off excitedly, “A red herring!” She turns around quickly and types something in on her computer. After a quick scan on the screen, she whirls around, looking at both of them in pleasant surprise. “Guess what was in Cortez’s stomach contents the night he died?”

Dan blinks at her. “Don’t say herring.”

“Onions, tomatoes, rye bread, and pickled _herring_. I thought it was a little out there so I looked into it and there’s a European deli about three miles from the site; that’s where Diego Cortez must have grabbed lunch before he went on shift.”

Chloe looks back at Ella and rolls her eyes. “While that’s sort of interesting, I’m not sure it’s very helpful to us. Do you actually think there’s some kind of connection?”

Dan answers before Lopez can. “It’s not a connection. It’s a sick joke.”

Ella raises her hand to him in agreement. “That’s kinda what I was thinking, too. My guess is that our killer must have followed Cortez—or maybe even ate with him—and then got inspired to add a little spice to the investigation by tossing bits of latex around the crime scene to mess with us.”

“That’s all we need: a prankster murderer,” Dan says dryly. He knits his brow together, trying hard to think of something when a thought comes to him. “Wait a second, when I went to see James McMillan he had a box of latex gloves on his desk. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, his company works with all kinds of materials—but maybe that’s something.”

A speculative look comes over Chloe’s face. “It might be—maybe McMillan wanted to get a look at the tiles before he killed Cortez. It would explain why a box was opened but nothing was taken. Ella, could you match the glove material from the crime scene to the ones in McMillan’s office?”

Ms. Lopez tosses her head from side to side. “Well, some cheaper brands do use compound blends with other materials—and the powder coating on the glove isn’t always the same. It’s a long shot but if it’s a match…”

Chloe nods, “It’s enough. Are you able to make a comparison on the spot?”

Anticipating what Decker is inferring, Ella grabs her kit bag and bounces a little excitedly, “Definitely—also, yay, fieldtrip!” and the two of them head out of the lab.

Dan follows behind the ladies with a smirk. “Guess I’ll drive.”

~*~

The three of them get all the way to McMillanCorp only to discover that James McMillan is not there. However, his desk is right at the front of the main office and there is no door separating it. Ella looks at the two homicide detectives for the go-ahead; they turn around and look the other way. She swiftly pulls a latex glove from the box sitting on the desk and gets to work.

Chloe starts walking towards the hallway and glances over her shoulder at Dan. “I’m gonna go find someone and ask where McMillan is.”

Dan gives her a silent nod and stays put, guarding Ella while she works her forensic magic.

Of course, she somehow always has time for chitchat while she does whatever it is she does. “You know, I get why James McMillan would want to send a message to stay away from his stuff, but why make it so elaborate?”

He shakes his head, “I dunno, but it definitely seems off—even with how much those tiles are worth. The guy was abrasive, but he didn’t really seem the type to do something _that_ over the top.”

Ella rolls her gaze up at him with a knowing look, “Ya think ya know someone, and then…body web.”

Dan huffs a laugh, “I can’t believe you’re sticking with that.”

She smiles and gives an upturned nod, “C’mon, you gotta admit, it has a ring to it.”

“I guess,” he says, smiling back.

Ms. Lopez looks down at a container with a solution in it and holds it up to the light. “We got a match.”

“Bout time something came together,” he says, and starts walking towards the hallway.

Decker comes marching back to them with a swift stride. “Guys, did you get a match?”

Dan frowns at her, “Yeah, actually. What’s up, did you find McMillan?”

She shakes her head. “His lead foreman said he got a text from him saying he was out sick. According to him, his boss has never called in sick before—and it’s not something he’d do over text.”

“Great,” Dan groans. “Alright, let’s go find him.”

~*~

James McMillan’s house is in Los Feliz, near the southwest corner of Griffith Park. It’s a Spanish style bungalow with short palms decorating the front, well-manicured hedges, and a marble fountain with the statue of Venus de Milo in the center.

The walkway leading up to the front door is lined with marble tiles that, while not speckled with diamonds, look way too expensive to be considered outdoor décor, inlaid with pearl accents and shimmering in the late morning sun. It’s starting to look more likely that McMillan covets fancy and expensive ‘building materials.’

There’s a large red pickup truck in the driveway. The plates match what they have on file, so presumably, he’s actually home.

Dan and Chloe step out of the car, Ella waits inside.

As they approach the front door, Chloe takes point and is about to knock on the door when she and Dan both hear it at the same time: muffled shouting for help.

Instinctively, both of them align beside each other, withdrawing their guns, make a silent count, and then kick the door.

It swings in on the first slam, a tearing sound of plastic follows and a torrent of cream-orange paint sprays down on them from above, coating them from head to toe.

Dan has his eyes and mouth squeezed shut. He hears the cries for help continue, is about to be stupid and bolt towards the sound, but now that he’s inside, he’s able to recognize that something’s off about it.

From behind both of them, he hears Ella call out, “Guys, I know you’re gonna hate this but _do not move_.”

Chloe and Dan both make agreeable noises in their throats and stay still. Ella’s footsteps run off.

The cries keep repeating. _It’s a recording_ , Dan realizes.

A few minutes later, Ella’s voice comes again from behind. “Ok, I need you to do _exactly_ what I say. Chloe, take one step to your left and then walk backwards very carefully until I say stop.” Once Chloe has done this, Ella says, “Dan, take a step to your right and do what Chloe did.”

He does; waits. It sounds like Ella zips past him and closes the front door.

Then she says, “Ok, uh, I found the hose, be ready to get blasted—and not in a fun way.” She turns it on and sprays them down, first in their faces really good and then the rest of their bodies.

Dan and Chloe both start gasping for air as soon as they feel it’s safe to open their mouths and wipe their eyes. They take a moment to look at each other in utter amazement and then snap to, each holstering their weapons.

He asks her first, “Did you notice—?”

“—the recording? Yeah. Someone is definitely fucking with us.” She wipes her face again and turns to Ella. “Did you see anything before you closed the door?”

“I did and—it doesn’t look good. But don’t worry, I called it in.”

Dan shakes his head, feeling horribly wet and sticky. “Thanks.” He turns to the door and pops his neck with a sigh. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

~*~

Over the course of the next two hours, Dan, Chloe, and Ella piece together a lot, and all of it is quite unsettling.

A length of twine had been strung to the door handle and rigged up to a large contractor bag affixed to the ceiling. The bag had been previously slit open and then taped over with duct tape, with one end of the twine taped down the center, acting as a zipper to split open the bag. It had been filled with house paint (the same color as the house itself), directly sourced from some five-gallon buckets found inside the garage.

But only about two buckets-worth of paint had been spared for Dan and Chloe’s little hero stunt.

Ten feet inside the house, where the hallway opened up to a large living room, was a ninety-five gallon bin, normally used for green waste.

On top of it was a small audio recorder that was hooked to an extra battery pack. Inside the bin, there was approximately another twenty gallons of paint, and the mangled, drowned body of James McMillan.

The voice on the recorder that had been stuck on loop was McMillan himself, muffled by a gag. It explained why Chloe and Dan could make it out through the door, but no neighbors had heard anything.

His wrists and ankles had been taped up with duct tape. His kneecaps had been busted with a mallet, which was found nearby in the living room.

Although nothing could be confirmed yet, it appeared that just about everything, save for the audio recorder, had all been items that McMillan already owned. The killer had most likely traveled on foot and knew the victim well enough to know what materials would be available.

A security system had been installed, but there were no cameras. There was clear evidence that the alarm wires had been snipped, but there was no indication as to exactly how the killer got in the house beyond that. No footprints or fingerprints.

As if that wasn’t disturbing enough, the killer had left a note taped to the back of the recorder. In Times New Roman font, printed on a standard piece of printer paper, it read:  
  


He was hogging all the credit and he ain’t even your guy!  
Couldn’t let him steal my thunder, now could I?  
Stay tuned for my next installment,  
you’re gonna love it  
  


So, they’re dealing with a serial killer—and they have zero leads on who it could be.

About the only good news (and it’s not even _good_ , really), is that Chloe found evidence on McMillan’s phone that he was in fact doing something shady with the tiles. According to outgoing texts, he was trying to sweet talk several different private buyers into purchasing the tiles right away. He was offering ‘bargain’ prices (half what the tiles were actually worth), which suggested that he’d stolen them from the distributor to make a buck for himself. So there’s that.

Still, it’s not enough to make Dan feel any better.

Also, it’s likely that the killer wasn’t expecting the case to spill over into more than just a murder, but handled it well enough to add another victim within the week _and_ still cover their tracks.

Dan is feeling absolutely frustrated by everything. This case has gone from nearly solved to turning into a serial homicide, with presumably more murders on the way. His clothes are still damp. Not all of the paint came off him or Chloe. It’s become very tacky and it’s all he can smell. His stomach is growling from having been ignored since he woke up today.

He needs a goddamn shower and a drink. This case can officially go fuck itself.

~*~

After doing another round in and outside the house, checking in with Ella, and then the lieutenant over the phone, Dan and Chloe are free to go wash up and change clothes before heading back to the precinct.

Dan always has a cache of towels in his trunk—for the gym, or surfing, or whatever. In this instance, the ‘whatever’ is keeping the seats from getting wet when he and Chloe hop in his car, and he couldn’t be more grateful right now that he likes to hoard towels.

They head to his place—it’s a lot closer than Chloe’s is to the station. If he’d been alone, he probably would have gone to the penthouse since it’s even closer. But he has no easy way to explain to his ex-wife just how he came into possession of keys to Lux, so he wisely decides to keep that information to himself.

When they get into his apartment, Dan says, “You go first. I skipped breakfast today; I gotta eat something. You hungry?”

Chloe groans, “Starving!” She slips off her shoes and starts walking down his short hallway to the bathroom. “What’s on the menu?”

He’s already at the fridge, getting started. He calls out, “Smoked turkey and spinach wraps.”

“Perfect! Hey, my jeans aren’t too bad, I’m gonna throw them in your dryer. Do you have a shirt I could borrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll bring you one!” he says over his shoulder.

“Thanks!” she shouts back.

After several minutes, he’s made two wraps and inhales his in three bites and chugs a glass of water. He strips down to his boxer briefs and tosses his jeans into the dryer, too. He throws his jacket, shirt and socks into the washing machine.

Dan heads to his bedroom and rifles through his shirts, finding a dark blue one that’s always been kind of tight on him anyway. He walks to the other side of the room, where there is a second door leading to the bathroom.

He can hear the shower running, but knocks anyway. After hearing an affirmative from Chloe, he opens the door and walks in. He sets the shirt down on the sink counter and then gives himself a look in the mirror, grimacing at all of the paint chunks still speckling the top of his head.

From behind him, he hears a giggle. He glances back and then continues to pick paint out of his hair, grinning. “What?”

Chloe peeks out from around the shower curtain. “I think you got way more paint in your hair than I did.”

“Just lucky I guess,” he says.

Although his eyes were all for his hair at first, Dan can’t help but notice the reflection in the mirror of Chloe’s figure behind the curtain. He pauses, unable to keep from staring, and then blinks a few times and goes back to pulling out more paint.

“I’m almost done if you want to hop in,” she offers.

“Ok, I’ll get out of your way,” he replies, and turns to walk back to his bedroom.

She suddenly pokes her head out again, “Hey, Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to leave.”

If he’s being honest with himself, Dan doesn’t want to leave, either. But they should really talk first.

He looks at her face. Some of her hair is clinging to her cheek. Her lashes look extra long when they’re wet. Her skin is flushed. She has a brazen look in her eyes. Sometimes a look really is all it takes.

Dan smiles and slips off his underwear. She pulls back the curtain and steps aside as he moves in front of her. They press together, their mouths finding each other easily. Her breasts feel soft against his abdomen.

Between kisses, Dan has the forethought to say, “You know—we _do_ have to go back to work—eventually.”

Chloe bites her lower lip and fluidly turns around, moving up against the back of the shower wall. She lifts one leg onto the edge of the bathtub and arches one of her eyebrows at him. “You better get over here, then.”

He grins and moves up behind her, his left hand sliding up her arm and reaching to clasp their fingers together, the other sliding over her hip. He kisses along her neck and nibbles at her left earlobe, his voice husky when he says, “Yes, ma’am!”

His lifts his right hand and puts two fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit. He quickly pulls them out and slips them inside her from behind, and she immediately gasps, her back arching towards him.

Dan only has to work his fingers in for about a minute before she’s ready. He slides his feet out a little bit to brace himself as he angles his hips. He strokes himself a few times and then pushes inside quickly, gritting his teeth with a loud groan.

Chloe moans freely and pushes back against him. Dan wraps his right hand across the front of her body, reaching to massage one of her breasts as he starts thrusting.

It isn’t long before he’s panting hard and she’s screaming. The wet slap of their bodies is loud and vigorous. Chloe grinds her hips against him, moving in such a way that Dan knows he won’t last much longer.

Pressure builds and their noises get more pronounced. A guttural sound rumbles in his throat. He writhes up against her, rutting hard. She squeezes her inner muscles, her free hand straining against the wall.

Dan’s breathing hitches, his thrusts become uneven. He sucks in his breath suddenly and holds his waist against her ass, moaning as he comes. Chloe’s whole body shudders and tightens against him, her cries shrinking to soft gasps.

They remain breathless and pinned together for a few moments. When they finally separate, automatically, they take turns using the shower for its intended purpose, occasionally laughing and smiling as they try to navigate around each other in such tight quarters.

Afterwards, Dan steps out, hands her a towel and then grabs one for him. He dries off and then wraps the towel over his waist, immediately going back to inspect his hair for any stray paint bits.

Chloe has the towel wrapped over her body from chest to thighs, and is straightening her hair with her hands, also looking for paint. Her eyes catch sight of his bedroom and she pauses. She leans back to get a better look, and then walks towards his bed.

Dan barely notices what she’s doing until it’s too late.

“Dan? Was someone with you last night?”

 _Oh shit_.

He freezes for a second and then resumes what he was doing. “What are you talking about?”

She crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head at him. “Your sheets are all messed up. You’ve always been super diligent about making your bed for as long as I’ve known you.”

He tries to stay calm, glances at her momentarily. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

There’s a pause on her end, and then, “Both of your pillows have head-dents.”

 _Fuck_.

He sighs and stands straight, turning to face her. “Look, Chlo—.”

She holds her hands up, speaks fast. “No, no, it’s fine. I mean, this is your house, we’re not together anymore. I just, I dunno—it would have been nice to know that you were already seeing someone _before_ we hooked up last night.”

Stupidly, he divulges, “Actually, we weren’t really _together_ until—until _after_ you and I hooked up.” Shit, that sounds bad. He looks away, scratches the back of his head.

Chloe stares at him. “What does that mean? Did us sleeping together trigger some kind of panic about commitment and you had to go sleep with a stranger?”

“What? No, of course not! And it wasn’t a stranger!” _Oops_.

“Oh, so should I be grateful it’s someone we know? Who was it? Was it Maze?”

“No,” he answers swiftly. He’s surprised she went there first. He thought for sure—.

“Was it Ella?” He hesitates for a fraction of a second too long. She sighs, “Oh my God, it was Ella, wasn’t it?”

“No,” he says, softer this time. He doesn’t feel like now would be the time to tell her about when he and Ella actually did sleep together. He’s not sure Ella would want him to be the one to tell Chloe anyway.

She tries for understanding, gives him a sympathetic look. “Dan, it’s—you know what? It’s fine, really, if that’s who you—.”

“—it wasn’t a woman!” he snaps suddenly, shocking himself with how quickly that slipped out. He sighs, his shoulders sagging. He fights to meet her eyes, finding it incredibly hard to do so. His fists are clenched tightly at his sides. He swallows, “It was a guy.”

Chloe carefully reads his body language, sees just how uncomfortable he feels. She walks up to him, her brow dipping low over her big, blue eyes. “Dan…” she reaches up, places a hand on his cheek.

He looks down at the floor, his eyes glassy. “I’m sorry. I’m still not that comfortable talking about it.”

There’s a lot she could ask him, but the first question that comes out of her mouth is, “Why didn’t you think you could tell me?”

Dan finally looks at her. “I’ve had it buried pretty deep most of my life. I didn’t realize it still mattered to me until very recently.”

Several different emotions seem to cross over Chloe’s face: hurt, compassion, confusion. He can see that she’s trying to reason how to digest the information. He wants to touch her, but he doesn’t know if it’s what she wants.

Chloe’s hand slides from his cheek down to his chest, rests there, and so do her eyes. She draws in a deep breath and lets it out long and slow. When she looks back up at him, her gaze is neutral—equally ready for rejection or acceptance. “So where does this leave us?"

Dan tentatively reaches up and takes her by the shoulders, stroking his thumbs over her skin. “I don’t know. I guess I still have a lot going on right now. I’m sorry, I wish things didn’t have to be this complicated.”

“Who says they have to be?” she leans in closer, her hands going around his waist. She tries for a hopeful smile. “I mean, this seems pretty easy to me.”

He can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, it is,” and instinctively tilts his head forward and kisses her. But that’s when a disrupting thought hits him. This _is_ easy— _too_ easy—more so for her than it is for him. He slows the kiss to a halt, moving to press their foreheads together and sighs through his nose. “Can I ask you something?”

She reaches back up and cups the side of his jaw, “What is it?”

It’s going to be difficult to say what’s on his mind. But he has to do it. He has to know if his gut feeling about this is right. He pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Do you only want to be with me because Lucifer is gone?”

Chloe hesitates for a moment and then breaks into a large smile and huffs a laugh, “What? Dan, c’mon that’s—.”

“That’s it, isn’t it?” he says, taking a step back. She doesn’t continue. He swallows a lump in his throat, frowning. He knows her tells, knows that she always deflects with a smile first. He looks at her, hurt filling his eyes. “That’s why you’ve been coming on so strong.” He looks away, snarls, “Damn it.”

She reaches out, touches his arm. He doesn’t pull away. Even when he’s upset with her, he likes it when she touches him. “It’s just that, we’ve both been through so much in the last few years, and now it feels like it’s just you and me again and I—I feel safe with you. That’s why it’s so easy.”

Lucifer was right: Dan can’t trust what hasn’t been earned. While he and Chloe had a life together at one time, things are different now. They’ve both spent the last four years building relationships with other people and growing as individuals separate from one another. If she’s with him because it’s safe and easy, then how can he trust that it’s genuine? Or that it won’t be just as easy for her to leave?

He smirks dryly and gathers up the strength to walk past her with concerted effort. “We should get dressed.” He goes to his dresser and starts gathering his clothes.

She starts dressing, too, but continues to push the issue. “I meant what I said: I’ve missed being close to you.”

An aggravated sigh escapes his lips and he turns around after slipping on his briefs. “And what about when we were separated, huh? I was really trying to pull things together, Chlo. Didn’t seem like you missed being close to me then.”

“That’s not fair, Dan. It was complicated.”

“No. You were more focused on your new partner. And then one thing led to another and…and I don’t know what happened.” He shakes his head, looking frustrated more than anything else.

Chloe is wearing his t-shirt and somehow (damn it), it still looks good on her even though it’s a few sizes too big. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s in her underwear, too. Dan hates that he still wants her even though he’s angry. Fuck, he’s such a mess.

“I don’t know, either. A lot’s changed since then,” she points out.

“That’s just it, Chloe!” he groans and rubs his face with his hand, lets it run through his hair, which is thankfully no longer tangled with paint. “ _I’ve_ changed. And I don’t know if you can really understand.”

He zips up his jeans, marches out of the room and grabs her pants from the dryer. He returns and hands them to her and then sits on the edge of the bed to slip on some socks. His back is turned to her.

Working off what he said, Chloe continues to try and offer an olive branch while getting her jeans back on. “Then talk to me.” She sits down on the adjacent side of the bed and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. It feels warm and familiar. “Help me understand.”

He _has_ changed—but apparently, not that much, because her method of getting him to talk works every damn time. Maybe she has miracle powers. Or maybe it’s just her. Either way, Dan is starting to regret his reaction towards her earlier and his self-loathing is seeping in like a poison. He feels like a complete asshole.

When he doesn’t say anything back, she shifts the subject to what she thinks might be a more positive one. “So, who’s the lucky guy?”

A half smile finds its way onto his lips, but he still hesitates.

All of a sudden he realizes that he can’t tell her the truth. If she finds out that Lucifer is trying to protect her by avoiding her—like he’s done several times before—it might just truly break her this time. He can’t let that happen. No matter what they are to each other, Dan doesn’t want to see her go through that again.

Instead, he tries to work with a loophole. “I don’t know if I should say who, he’s…kind of keeping a low profile right now?”

She nods, appropriately misinterpreting his meaning. “Oh, you mean he’s—he’s not ‘out’ yet—got it.” She pauses, and he’s certain he knows exactly where she’s going next. “So then, are you _dating_ -dating this mystery man or…?”

There’s a reason Chloe’s a detective. She has never been good at knowing when to stop. And, maybe he isn’t just a rebound to her, after all. He grins a little bashfully and can’t stop from blushing. “Yeah, I think so.”

She smiles with him and relentlessly fishes for more intel. “But you said you weren’t really together until _after_ you and I slept together?”

Dan chuckles and looks at her. “You don’t know how to quit, do you?”

She gives him a more thoughtful look and slips her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. “I get the feeling you don’t want me to quit.”

He grows more serious, and flicks his gaze to their hands and then back to her. “I don’t.” Then he frowns. “But you need to know that,” his words catch in his throat. He’s suddenly nervous. He takes a deep breath and exhales audibly. “You need to know that I’ve started seeing someone, and he doesn’t mind me seeing you, but I don’t know if that’s something you want to deal with. And honestly, I don’t even know if it’s something I’m able to do. I need some time to figure things out.”

Her eyes move away from him and she stares at her lap. After about a minute, when she returns her gaze to him, her eyes are holding back tears, and his heart sinks. She nods slowly, “Ok.”

Dan feels awful. He thinks he may have misjudged her intentions, and that he might have just made things worse by flipping out. Then again, she didn’t exactly deny it when he asked her if he was just a replacement for Lucifer. That hurt. It hurt a lot more than he thought possible.

With one arm, Dan pulls her against his chest and kisses the top of her head. He breathes in the scent of her hair and sighs. It smells familiar and safe. He thinks he understands what she meant when she said that about him.

He remembers being wrapped in Lucifer’s arms, and how that felt safe, too.

He is such a goddamn mess. He doesn’t know what to do. He closes his eyes and prays for an answer, finding real comfort in the fact that he knows he’ll be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter left you sad. Such is the way of life sometimes; stories weave in and out of emotional pulls that we must move through in order to move on. On another note: maybe I need to rename this story "Poor Dan" because, well, poor Dan!!! He just can't catch a break very often can he?
> 
> I do hope this chapter hasn't ruined your enjoyment. I like to think the drama makes it more worthwhile. But maybe I'm a bit of a masochist ;)


	15. Chapter Break - We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Broadcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT STORY RELATED.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be political. But it is important.

I've debated on whether or not I should say something here. I want this to be a safe space for people to explore and share their imaginations and themselves. But as a safe space, shouldn't it also be safe for me to feel like I can share with all of you a message that needs absolute attention? Another writer on here certainly thought so, and it has given me strength to do the same, so here it goes.

**BLACK LIVES MATTER.**

That's as simple a message I can echo in the name of those who are being silenced, brutalized and murdered.

Frankly, I have no words that can make sense of what has been happening. All I know is that it needs to stop. And it starts from within.

Maybe it means that:

You donate,

You help,

You support,

You say something,

You vote,

You are kind,

You show love,

You promote peace,

You educate others,

You get informed,

You spread the word.

Whatever it means to you, know that it means a better future for all of us, because we're all in this together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter 15 will resume and arrive as normal, on Saturday).


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Chloe have a much nicer conversation than where we last left off with them. They breeze through work. Dan and Lucifer have some very important moments together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADS UP: Doing some switching around. This is the 15TH chapter of the story, but in AO3 it is listed as the 16TH chapter on account of my political post I made last week. It's gonna be confusing for a bit. Apologies for the mix up.
> 
> Sorry this came later than anticipated! Be ready: Heavy angst and feels in this one. But man, I think you'll enjoy the ride!

In the time it takes Chloe to eat her wrap, Dan makes another for himself since they were basically on a lunch break and he wouldn’t be off shift until at least seven tonight. They eat in relative silence. They get into the car and on the road the same way.

The air between them doesn’t feel awkward, really, but Dan can sense that Chloe’s deliberately holding off from talking so that she can work out the situation in her head. Even in her relationships, she’s always making assessments to confirm that everything lines up. It’s something he’s always admired about her; it’s something that stood out to him when they first started working together.

When she finally does break the mood, he isn’t surprised that she does it, but he is caught off guard by, “So are you experimenting now, or is this, like—are you totally bisexual?”

He keeps his gaze ahead but manages a smile. “Just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Well, you know, it’s just that I want to make sure I don’t make assumptions.”

“Right. No, this isn’t just experimental. Like I said, it was buried pretty deep, but it’s not new.”

“It’s new to me. But, I guess it actually makes a lot of sense the more I think about it,” Chloe bobs her head, agreeing with herself.

He furrows his brow and glances at her, “Wait, really?”

She chuckles, “Well, for one, how many grown men do you know who would cry their eyes out after watching _‘Up’?”_

“It’s a sad fuckin’ movie!” Dan exclaims, laughing.

“Yeah, but you did it without trying to hide it. I think that shows just how sensitive you are.”

He clears his throat and concentrates on the traffic ahead of him. “Being sensitive isn’t a marker that defines your sexuality.”

She shrugs. “You’re right, but then there’s also the fact that you like your nipples pinched, which isn’t so common, _and_ having the occasional finger in your ass.”

Dan grins but feels a flush creep into his cheeks. “We only did that a handful of times when we were married.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Only because you were embarrassed you liked it so much. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get you off the first time I tried it.”

Dan points a finger at her. “Hey, I had no idea that was going to happen.”

She points back, “Ok, but I definitely know you had _some_ idea you were into men when it came to your choice in porn.”

“Ok, now you’re just fishing.”

Chloe looks at him, unmoved, “Am I? Remember when you got so embarrassed when I found your stash and I asked to check them out to show you I was cool with it?”

“Ah-huh,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road.

“You, Dan Espinoza, have a type.”

Dan scoffs, still smiling, “Oh, c’mon! You couldn’t possibly know that from the like—six DVDs I had—besides they all had women in them, too.”

“Yeah, and all the girls were pretty standard, but the guys— _wow_. All of them were tall, had dark hair, dark eyes, _and_ were muscular, but not like super macho, either, more on the lean side. I’m pretty sure at least half of what I saw had the same guy in multiple scenes.”

Dan’s actually feeling really good about their conversation. It’s nice being able to just chat about this. It’s one of the best things about Chloe’s approach in any exchange—she’s pretty open-minded, once she has all the facts.

He lets out a pleasant sigh, “Joel DiMarco.”

“Oh my god,” Chloe gapes, “You know his name? Honestly, I gotta say, that’s kinda hot.”

His blush deepens. He smirks and gives a shrug, “I like his work.” Then he adds, “You know, what got my attention in the first place was that he did stuff with both men and women.”

She tilts her head to the side, “Well, I get that. It must have made it easier for you to justify that it was ok to be into it.”

“Maybe. But overall, I wasn’t ok with that part of myself yet.”

“Hey, but you are now. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” she reaches out and touches his arm reassuringly.

He swallows. “It is. I just feel bad that you got caught up in the middle of me coming to terms with it— and starting something with someone else.”

Her hand slides back into her lap. “It’s fine. Maybe I just have bad timing,” she huffs, “I think I’m even starting to see a pattern.”

“What do you mean?”

She goes quiet for a moment before saying, “After our divorce, when I was ready to date again, I ended up with Pierce—and we saw how well that went. Then I told Lucifer how I felt, and he—he had to leave and now with you…” she shakes her head.

“Hey,” Dan reaches over and takes her hand. “It’s not like you knew things were going to happen the way they did before you made your move. I didn’t have a clue that I was gonna hook up with a _guy_ —it just happened.”

Chloe nods and then shifts the conversation back to him. “So how did that happen, anyway?”

Part of Dan actually really wishes he could tell her. Another part of him wishes the damn traffic would speed the fuck up so they can get back to work.

He shakes his head and smiles. “Nice try, but I’m not gonna kiss and tell.”

“I don’t mean that; that’s your business. But I just—how did you know when it felt right?”

Ah, so that’s it. Chloe wants advice. Dan can’t deny that he feels touched that she’s asking him, considering his track record in their marriage.

He thinks about the first night he and Lucifer went from being enemies to…something else. He considers that even before they kissed, he’d already thought of him sexually in the shower. That came on from a strange combination of anger, frustration, and desperation. But now that he’s really thinking about it, Dan realizes that he might have been attracted to Lucifer pretty early on.

He had become a threat when he started working with Chloe, sure, but Dan was still knee-deep in resentment towards his own sexuality then. Finding Lucifer attractive would have only fueled the fires of his rage about everything else that wasn’t working in his life. Maybe that’s why he started hating him in the first place.

When he gathers up all of these thoughts, surprisingly, he is able to come to a very simple conclusion. “I knew it when I stopped fighting the truth about how I felt.”

She gives him a look. “It was that easy?”

He grins. “Oh, believe me, nothing about it was easy. I’ve spent most of my life lying to myself about it.”

Chloe smiles at him, “Well, I’m glad that’s changed.”

Dan looks at her and his grin softens to a warm smile, “Yeah, me too.”

~*~

They get back to the precinct and another case falls into their laps before they can even check in with Ella. Dan and Chloe are weirdly relieved that it looks to be gang-related and therefore a lot more straightforward to solve.

The rest of the day sees them tied up with the new investigation. They make phone calls, communicate with the D.A., run background checks, answer emails, interview witnesses, go over photos of the scene, write out reports, drum up ideas on the whiteboard, all while plowing through shoddy break room coffee.

Working together has never been hard for them. Dan thinks it’s definitely one of the things that contributed to the reason they lasted as long as they did. But no matter the reason, he’s glad it’s something that’s never changed between them.

He’s also just happy to be engrossed in his job right now. It allows him to put his mental bullshit on hold so he can concentrate on doing something good that fills him with honest satisfaction. Sometimes the less exciting things in life have unexpected silver linings.

When Chloe has to head out to go pick up Trixie from school, she and Dan say their goodbyes. They smile and wave to each other like it’s just another day, like nothing all that exciting took place in his shower, or on Chloe’s outdoor patio furniture. Just thinking about it gives him a bit of a rise.

After she’s out of sight, Dan has to clear his head. But eventually, his mind inevitably wanders towards thoughts about his relationship status.

Saying, ‘It’s complicated’ feels like an understatement. He’s never been in a situation like this before, so he has no frame of reference with which to work from. And as much as he doesn’t want to turn Chloe away, he considers that it might be better for everyone if he doesn’t try to make a mess of a good thing. That is of course, if what he and Lucifer have _is_ a good thing. It’s too soon to tell, really, but the not knowing doesn’t make him feel better about it.

Not for the first time that day, Dan lets another legitimate prayer slip through the cracks of his mind in hopes that Lucifer will hear it.

He doesn’t want to screw this up. He’s done so many things he’s not proud of; he doesn’t want this to get added to that list. He wants to do better.

~*~

By the time he feels confident that he’s done all he can do for the day, he’s let time get ahead of him and it’s nine-thirty. It’s a good thing he does another mid-shift tomorrow.

He gathers his things and quickly makes his way out of the precinct and to his car. He’s pretty beat, so he decides to skip making dinner and indulges in a couple of pizza slices from a small shop about six blocks from his place.

Once home, he takes a long, hot shower in an effort to promote drowsiness. It helps some, but he’s not sure it’s enough to quell his excitement at seeing Lucifer again. He’s amused by the thought that he’s having difficulty getting to sleep because of it; it’s a good problem to have.

Dan envelopes in his blankets with a sigh. After last night, he realizes that he misses the feeling of having someone beside him in bed. He thinks about what Chloe told him about Lucifer’s habits, and what he’d seen himself. The man almost never went to bed alone. Dan wonders if there was more than a sexual reason for that and how Lucifer’s been dealing with that lack of attention until now.

He considers, not for the first time, that Lucifer is so willing to help him because it must give him something to look forward to. It provides a need he probably doesn’t get in Hell.

Or does he? He is the Devil, after all. Does he ever sleep with demons? He and Maze are oddly close, and Dan’s never quite been able to piece together why. They seem to argue a lot, and there’s a strange power dynamic between them—or there used to be, he thinks. But somehow, they still care about each other, in their own ways. He has no idea what it really means.

As his mind chews on these thoughts, he eventually is able to tire himself out enough to slip beneath the realm of consciousness and into the arms of sleep.

~*~

Dan is sitting in a semi-circular booth at the coffee shop around the corner from the precinct. It’s daytime, and no one is inside the building, except for him. He looks around, taking note of the blurred dimness of everything not in his immediate surroundings, confirming he is in fact dreaming. A to-go cup is in front of him. He can’t smell anything. He tests it out and takes a sip. He expected his usual, and so it tastes like the memory of that, but it doesn’t feel warm or cold, it just…exists, sort of. It’s weird.

The little bell on the door rings and he sees someone step inside and go up to the counter—where there is no one at the register. A few moments later, Lucifer approaches him, wearing a steel gray suit with a dark green pocket square and looking fantastic as usual. He’s holding a small cappuccino. He smiles brightly, “Hello, Daniel! May I join you?”

Dan looks up at him with a confused smile, “Uh, sure?”

“Lovely!” he exclaims and then sits adjacent to him. He takes a sip of his ‘drink,’ grinning at Dan over the edge of his cup.

“What are you doing, man?”

“Hmm? Well, I figured it would be good if we changed the scenery. Of course, I would have preferred we start somewhere more exciting, like that curious fantasy of yours from the night before, but it just so happens I have a point to make.”

Dan furrows his brow and shrugs, “Ok, what’s your point?”

Lucifer sets his mug down and clears his throat. “I know this may come as quite a shock, and I hate to put a muzzle on that voracious libido of yours, but—I don’t think you should see other people while you and I work together.”

He can’t help but notice the way Lucifer has chosen his words. It hurts his feelings a little, but at the same time he appreciates Lucifer’s diligence in staying on track—this is supposed to be about the deal they made, after all. Honestly, it’s kind of impressive (but a little strange) just how attentive he’s being.

Dan folds his arms over his chest. “You mean Chloe.”

Lucifer shifts beside him and their legs brush up against each other. “The Detective _is_ included in that, yes, but it’s not strictly limited to her. You’re a Gigot de Sept Heures, not a Sole Meunière—you need plenty of time to come out prepared just right or else you’ll end up being a huge waste of my time and a grave disappointment to anyone you try to establish a relationship with.”

“You want to run that by me in English?”

The Devil scoffs, “Seven-hour lamb versus sautéed fish: one takes hours to come out delectable, the other is quite literally a flash in the pan! Though to be fair, I’ve had plenty of good Sole Meunière, but it’s the quick cook time that makes it easy to ruin if you’re not careful.”

Dan laughs and shakes his head. “All right, fine, I get what you’re saying. It’s better if I take it slow and focus on just one person right now, and that should be—.”

“—me,” Lucifer finishes for him with a smile.

“I was going to say, ‘myself,’ actually.”

Lucifer reaches out and places a hand on top of Dan’s. “That will come later. Right now, you need to stop concentrating on hating yourself and start directing your efforts into caring about the feelings of others. The more selfless you become, the better off you’ll be when it’s time to take a long, hard look at yourself. You were doing splendidly before I arrived.”

“What do you mean?” Dan asks, suddenly wishing he could really feel Lucifer’s hand and not just the phantom feeling he gets from it. Now that he knows what it really feels like, it makes the dream seem emptier than it used to be. He moves a little closer to try and get a better sense of his presence beside him.

“I’ve heard you concerning yourself with my wellbeing while I’ve been reigning over the Underworld. It’s quite touching, really. And before you ask—no, I don’t shag anyone down here—not anymore, at least. Suffice to say I was in a very different place when I became the Lord of Hell initially. But I doubt there’s a soul in this universe who wouldn’t succumb to the affections of demons if it was the only option. Loneliness,” he pauses, “is one of the most unshakable torments that exist.”

Dan watches Lucifer withdraw emotionally right before his eyes. He’s visibly fighting the urge to show just how haunted he feels. Dan laces their fingers together and squeezes.

Then a new thought takes shape and he looks at the Devil inquisitively. “This isn’t just about helping me; it’s about helping you, too, isn’t it?”

Lucifer leans back and straightens up. “I see someone’s feeling quite perceptive. But regardless of what you think I need, I’m here because of our deal.”

He tries to pull his hand back, but Dan keeps a firm grip on it. Lucifer lets him hold on, looking at him with delighted surprise. Dan smirks at him, “Liar.”

“How dare you, you know I never lie.”

“Yeah, well you’re being pretty flexible with the truth.”

Taking the opportunity, Lucifer leans in and lowers his voice. “I’m quite flexible with a lot of things.”

Dan moves closer, lowering his eyelids. “Don’t I know it?”

“Darling, you don’t even know the half of it.” Their lips brush against each other teasingly.

“Oh yeah? You gonna fix that?”

“You greedy little thing.”

“You love it,” Dan murmurs.

“I _do_!” Lucifer growls back. He presses his mouth fiercely against Dan’s and shoves his hand through his hair. He grips hard and climbs onto Dan’s lap effortlessly.

Their hands that had been linked break apart. Lucifer starts fussing with his slacks until they’re undone. His erection is exposed just long enough for one of Dan’s hands to take hold of it and begin stroking. Lucifer lets loose a soft groan in the back of his throat.

Dan can immediately recognize how different this feels now that he knows what it’s like in person. The frustration behind that feeling urges him to kiss harder, to touch more, if for no other reason than to try and be as close to Lucifer as he can when it feels like he’s just a memory. It’s so fucking unfair, but it’s all he has, so he makes the best of it.

Dream-rules help to shift things around and Dan has repositioned both of them. He’s sitting upright in the booth, Lucifer on his lap, riding his cock while Dan jerks him off against his stomach.

In this position, Lucifer has the most control and most of the work. His body is arched forward, one hand still fisted in Dan’s hair, the other bracing against the back of the booth for leverage. Lucifer lithely moves above him, grinding ass-to-hips with a ridiculous amount of skill Dan had no idea was even possible.

Arduous gasps and occasional moans fill the space around them. Skin dews with sweat; muscles tense and relax. And yet it isn’t quite enough. Through clenched teeth, Dan utters, “Fuck, I wish I could really feel you.”

Lucifer slows down until he brings their bodies to a more gradual pace. Dan eases his grip on his dick but doesn’t let go. The Devil gives him a careful, wondering look. “There is…something we could try.”

Dan’s heart is racing (is it racing in his sleep, too?). He works to steady his breathing. He senses Lucifer’s apprehension and tries to ease the mood. “C’mere,” he beckons. They kiss, open-mouthed but gently. He pulls away to look at him, “Tell me.”

Lucifer presses their foreheads together, closes his eyes, and brings his movements to a standstill. He breathes out a sigh through his nose, suddenly going serious. “You’ve done it before when we’re like this, though not intentionally and not for very long. It’s just as strong for me regardless if you do it consciously or otherwise.”

Dan can’t help a small laugh that escapes his lips and he smiles. “You mean praying to you? It turns you on, huh?”

Lucifer leans back and gives Dan a reproachful glare. “It’s far more complex than that, Daniel. Though I guess I can hardly expect you to understand; you’re only human.”

He narrows his gaze thoughtfully and brings both of his hands to wrap around Lucifer’s back, holding him. “Try me.”

The Devil breathes in sharply and looks down at Dan, fascinated that he isn’t backing down, “Very well.”

He leans forward, pressing their bodies together, one hand staying flexed through Dan’s hair, the other wrapping around his shoulders. He whispers against his ear, his voice deep. “Picture your soul as though it were a taut cord of steady light. When you experience any sensation, the cord brightens or dims depending on if it’s pain or pleasure. Stronger sensations, like love or grief, can make a small part of it shiver and the light will flash or wink out temporarily. Now, imagine there is a different sensation, unlike all the rest, which can stroke the cord so powerfully, it can make the entire length of it glow and sing and vibrate all at once.”

Dan moves back so he can look into his eyes. Lucifer is giving nothing away with his expression; beautiful, but blank. Dan frowns. “Is it really that intense for you, every time?”

“Yes, but I was made to handle such things. Dad wanted to make sure his children could always be on-call, as it were.”

“That seems really invasive.”

“More than you can know,” Lucifer rolls his eyes. Then his mood shifts and he gazes at Dan more intimately, “Unless it’s welcome, of course.”

His implication is appreciated, but all of a sudden, Dan is hesitant. “I didn’t know it was like that. If I had, I never would have done it in the first place.”

“And that’s precisely the reason why you _are_ welcome, Daniel. It’s because of your concern over it that assures me you won’t abuse it.”

“But, should we even mess with something like that while we’re doing this? It’s sounds really…personal.”

Lucifer smiles wickedly. He brushes his lips against Dan’s when he talks. “I’m gallivanting around in your subconscious while one part of you is inside mine; it doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

Unable to resist, Dan kisses him. He has to focus pretty hard to stop, pressing their foreheads together again. He sighs, “But this _is_ different—isn’t it?”

A hand slides over to cup the side of Dan’s jaw and a thumb strokes his cheek. “Yes, and I’m willing to share it with you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you desire,” he answers simply.

Dan says nothing, doesn’t move.

Lucifer leans back and, fluidly, they’re both clothed again. He sits beside Dan, staring at him, a frown marring his features. “This is really upsetting you, isn’t it?”

Dan can’t see the look on his own face, but he knows it mustn’t be good; Lucifer hasn’t teased him or made any sort of joke to diffuse the sudden awkwardness of the moment. He looks down at himself and creases his brow. “Sorry I killed the mood—again.”

“Don’t be—clearly, you have something you need to get off your chest, so,” the Devil waves a hand at him, “out with it, whatever it is.”

He shakes his head, averting his gaze from the man beside him. “You know, it’s just…every time I think there’s more to this—thing—between us, you find some way to weasel out of the moment and keep it about business. And now,” he shifts his eyes towards Lucifer, “you tell me that what I’ve been doing has an effect on your _soul_ and I’m just supposed to think that doesn’t mean anything?”

Lucifer rolls his gaze away from him and sighs, “Told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand then?” Dan snaps vehemently. “Really, Lucifer? What about this am I not getting?”

“I’m _used_ to it—all celestials are. Before you lot were in the picture, it was just a way for all of us to communicate across vast distances of time and space. When my Father created Humanity, he got the absurd idea to give you the capacity for it—but it only seems to work for those who are mindlessly willing to play along with his ridiculous rules—present company excluded, of course.”

Dan gapes at him. “So, what—the act of prayer is just like—a cosmic phone call to you?”

“Hardly, but since such rudimentary metaphors seem to work better for you, _yes_ , that will suffice,” Lucifer sneers. “If you do it while we’re sharing your subconscious state, it’s like a signal boost that allows my presence to be received much more clearly.” He sighs and looks away, instinctively straightening his cufflinks and his lapels. “I wouldn’t do this with just anyone. And besides, this is a mutual exchange: I’ve allowed you access to a fraction of my soul, and you’ve allowed me access to your subconscious mind so that we can have these overly complex sexcapades.”

Anger and arousal rise up from the pit of Dan’s stomach. He wants to strangle the Devil for consistently avoiding discussing his feelings, but he’s tempted to turn that into an opener for sex because it seems like the only way he ever gets through to him.

Dan feels ashamed for thinking like that—he knows it can’t be healthy or normal. It’s a strange place to be mentally, and he has no idea how to process it.

A tortured look clouds his expression and he presses his face into his hands with a groan. “What the fuck is wrong with me? How can I want you and hate you at the same time?”

Lucifer smiles dryly. “You’re doing it, again.”

“What?”

“You’re throwing yourself a pity party rather than thinking about my needs.”

Dan lifts his head up and glares at him indignantly. He waves his hands and snaps, “How am I not thinking about your needs? This whole conversation started because I freaked out when you told me I basically invade your _soul_ whenever I pray to you.”

“Because I want this too, Daniel—all you can think about is how guilty it makes you feel! For Dad’s sake, if this is how your psyche responds to self-deprecation then there’s no place for you in Hell—you’re doing a bang-up job all on your own.”

“Then stop fucking confusing me!” Dan shouts.

Lucifer unduly gives him a wounded expression—except the look in his eyes is full of genuine distress and it inevitably crushes Dan’s heart a little.

He sighs, counts to five, and takes a few breaths through his nose. “Lucifer,” he says, doing his best to stay calm.

Dan’s been strung around by Lucifer and Chloe like he’s supposed to know what they want. But in truth, neither of them has been entirely forthcoming with their intentions—especially Lucifer. Dan is tired of the subterfuge. He needs clarity. He needs to be heard. He needs to get his point across _somehow_.

His mind comes to a bold decision. _You know what? Fuck it_ , and he shifts to kneel on one knee.

Lucifer gives him a baffled stare. “What on Earth are you doing?”

Looking up into his eyes, Dan says carefully, “I’m only gonna say this once, and I need you to listen to me— _really_ listen.” He pauses; Lucifer continues to stare at him. “I know you want me to stop beating myself up, but before I can even begin to try and do that I need us to be on the same page. Stop messing with my head and tell me that this is not just about the deal we made. Or tell me it is. Just tell me the truth.”

“I always tell the truth,” Lucifer says automatically, though his tone lacks the usual gusto that comes with that statement.

Dan’s lips tighten, his hands flex into fists. He wets his lower lip and continues to speak in a controlled voice. “I—I know, man, I know. But just this once, drop the walls and be real with me. Hell, if I have to, I’ll make you another deal just to make it happen—if that’s what it takes. _Please_.”

Lucifer grows imperceptibly still for what seems like several minutes, though Dan has no real way to judge the passing of time. He’s just looking down at him, staring pensively like he’s contemplating jumping off a cliff and Dan is the ledge.

Suddenly, he draws in a breath, breaking the silence between them. He blinks a few times, the corners of his eyes tightening, his expression pained—struggling. His voice comes out in a whisper. “I—I’m sorry, Daniel, I can’t tell you.”

Without realizing it could happen, Dan feels a pressure against his chest, and he sinks down to both knees.

Then Lucifer tentatively reaches out and takes Dan’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “But I can show you, if you’ll let me.”

Dan swallows a lump in his throat. He has a single moment to feel conflicted about this, and then he lets go of that sensation and replaces it with another: hope.

He pulls Lucifer by the hand, bringing him down to his knees so that they’re at eye level with one another. The scenery changes and they’re nude, on top of Lucifer’s bed in the penthouse. They move towards each other, eyelids lowering until they’ve both closed their eyes and their lips gently press together.

They take things slow, slower than they ever have. Dan gets the sense that they’re both feeling vulnerable right now and he doesn’t want to screw it up.

In the back of his mind, a small thought makes itself known: he’s far more sensitive in his dreams than he is when he’s conscious. He thinks because they’re in his head right now, that’s why it’s easier for him to be so transparent with Lucifer. He considers that maybe he’s been pushy because of it, and wonders if that’s cost him something in the long run. He files that concern away for later, and works to focus on the moment.

Dan slips one of his hands up and around Lucifer’s shoulder, pulling him to lie on top of him. The distant feel of his skin is warm, but it’s a ghost of what it should be. Their bodies writhe against one another, feeling light and heavy at the same time. The sense of pressure in these dreams is its own exercise in mental control. Dan’s been getting better at it, but there’s still an acute sense of absence, which has only been made more pronounced now that he’s experienced the real thing.

Without having to ask, Dan believes he understands now why Lucifer can’t tell him what he wants to know, but is willing to show him. Lucifer has always been one for spectacle. He has always worn his emotional armor like he wears his suits—every day, without fail, and with pride.

Perhaps he genuinely doesn’t know any other way to be. It’s humbling, really, and Dan realizes just how much it probably means to Lucifer that he’s still here, still willing to see where this goes. He never thought he’d be in such a complicated situation, but he’s determined to see it through. It matters enough for him to try.

Gradually, as their mouths stay locked together, Dan’s hands move to wrap over the Devil’s hips and start to lift up questioningly.

Lucifer reaches out with one hand, without looking, and pumps some lube into his palm from a bottle on the nightstand. Though it’s not necessary, being a dream, Dan feels Lucifer’s slicked hand take hold of his dick and coat him thoroughly. It’s not as intense as he’d like, but, oh, it still feels _good_ , and a gasp escapes his lips.

He strokes him for a long while, varying his pace, edging his thumb over the head, drawing out the occasional moan until Dan eventually starts breathing harder and is getting closer. Lucifer withdraws from Dan’s mouth, bringing his lips over his collarbone and down across his chest. Dan tilts his head back, his eyes closing as he exhales with a shudder.

The Devil licks across a nipple and is rewarded with a sharp inhale as Dan suddenly arches his back. When he sinks back against the bed he softly groans in complaint. “I wish you’d done that when you were here.”

Lucifer transfers from tongue to teeth and gives Dan a nip over one of his ribs, making him twitch and catch his breath. “So do I,” he rasps darkly. He makes a quick reach to gather more lube, gives Dan a few more strokes, and then sinuously rises over him and settles on his cock, letting go of a long sigh as he does so.

Dan arches his back again and moans; his brow creases as he feels the distant sensation of filling Lucifer with his entire length.

“I’m ready to show you, if you’re still willing,” Lucifer says, beginning to roll his hips.

Dan moves with him, his hands under Lucifer’s thighs, giving him a bit of lift as they start grinding against each other.

Their gazes meet. Lucifer’s eyes look almost completely black: two comfortable, dark voids, velvety and easy to sink into. He’s not using his otherworldly gaze, Dan recognizes, but it’s no less enthralling. And that’s when he discovers that Lucifer’s not hiding anymore. His look is as raw and natural as they come.

“Ok,” Dan breathes. He gulps between heavy pants, feeling a little nervous and excited all at once. He knows where this is going, but he does nothing. He realizes then that he wants permission. He doesn’t know how to express that.

Lucifer expertly rocks his hips, making it easy for Dan to thrust upwards. Tension builds and with one hand, Lucifer reaches to hold the side of Dan’s face in an unexpectedly firm grip. His mouth hangs open slightly as he looks into Dan’s eyes intently. “Pray,” he whispers.

Dan has done this enough to know exactly how to do it, but still, this time will be different and that forces him to falter. And he’s never let it carry on for more than a second or two when they’ve been together; he doesn’t know what to expect. It’s frightening, now that it carries so much more weight than before.

He remembers the times he’s accidentally let it happen around Lucifer, there was a shift in intensity, but he stopped it quickly, never really gave the feeling a chance to develop. He suddenly wonders if in doing so, he might have hurt Lucifer’s feelings, and that makes him feel awful. The least he can do is let go of his fear, and be open about the possibilities.

Dan closes his eyes. He gathers up all of his thoughts and feelings on Lucifer, and reaches out to him with his heart, the place where his conviction is the strongest.

Lucifer’s response is immediate. He sucks in a breath and shudders, and a sudden electric wave of warmth, sweat, rough and smooth skin, and even a rich, masculine scent, washes over Dan’s senses.

It’s like going from black and white to full, vibrant color. Or the chain reaction caused by turning a light switch from off to on; from darkness to radiance. It’s not quite the same as when Lucifer was with him in person, but it’s no less real in its own way.

And there’s something else, too. A sense of…certainty? Or connection? The more Dan focuses on the feeling, the more it brightens something inside him. The gratitude he’s felt towards Lucifer for everything that’s happened between them recently grows.

He sends that feeling through the ether, and hears Lucifer gasp in response, his body moving faster on top of him as they continue to work in a rhythm.

Dan moans loudly, his mind starting to get hazy with oversaturation of the strange certainty/connection feeling. It makes him start to smile like an idiot.

Lucifer’s voice comes out breathless, but fervent. “Am I coming through?”

“Loud and clear,” Dan says with a giggle. He bites his lower lip and squeezes his hands over Lucifer’s ass, keeps thrusting. He’s getting close again. Tossing his head back, he exhales, “This is incredible.”

“No, you are, Daniel,” Lucifer grits, clenching his jaw, his own release drawing near. He lurches his body forward enough to get close to Dan’s face. Their eyes meet again, and the Devil grins down at him, utterly pleased. “This,” he growls, sliding one hand to firmly grip the back of Dan’s neck, “is only possible because of _you_ —because of your unrestrained sense of faith. And so help me, I want more!” he presses his lips roughly to Dan’s, ravenous for an openmouthed kiss which is eagerly given.

Dan groans deep in the back of his throat. He starts pumping harder, one hand snaking up to grab Lucifer’s hair. It feels so fucking good, everything about this is like nothing he could imagine. And he’s close, so goddamn close.

The feeling builds, his heart racing, his body shaking. With a jolt, he comes hard and fast, tearing his mouth away to let loose a guttural sound and it’s all he can do to send that sense of bliss to Lucifer in a burst of unfiltered emotion.

Lucifer roars, his nails digging in sharply into Dan’s skin, his entire body going rigid. He has his face buried in the crook of Dan’s neck. He breathes heavily, his back visibly heaving up and down, shiny with sweat.

After Dan manages to calm down a little, he starts to lift Lucifer off of him. At once, Lucifer firmly keeps him pinned, shaking his head against Dan’s shoulder. Voice frantic and still out of breath, he says, “No! No, please—just—not yet.”

Dan is thrown for a moment. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his body beneath Lucifer’s, but slips his arms across his back to hold him securely. He notices that Lucifer is clinging to him and his muscles are tense. Dan frowns and asks, “Are you ok?”

Muffled against his shoulder, Lucifer replies flatly, “Fine. I just,” he turns his head towards Dan’s ear so he can be clearly heard; “I may have underestimated what that would do to me by the end.”

“Wait, are you saying you’ve never done that before?”

“How many times must I remind you that there’s a first for everything?”

Dan fights to keep his voice from becoming shrill. “You’ve put me through a lot of firsts, dude! Don’t you think it’s kind of risky using me as a human guinea pig?”

Lucifer groggily props himself above Dan with an elbow and looks down at him with a frown. “Do you really think I would go through all this trouble just to have you be my personal science experiment? That’s my Father’s agenda and most certainly not _mine_.”

A defeated look comes over Dan’s face and he sighs. “I’m sorry, you’re right. But seriously—aren’t you worried that something might go wrong?”

“When have you ever known me to be cautious?”

Dan smirks and huffs a laugh. “Good point.”

Lucifer gently slips off of Dan’s front and shifts his position to snuggle against his side, resting his head on his chest. Dan instinctively wraps an arm over his shoulders.

With a sigh, Lucifer says, “To answer your question: no. It’s like I told you before: you have a hidden strength of will I didn’t know you were capable of—and it connects to everything that is unique about you. You’ve resisted a celestial weapon, something no human should be able to do. You’ve resisted my Devilish charms, which is possible, but very rare. You seem to attract otherworldly energy on a primal level. And the effectiveness of your prayers is unusually superior. My point is: I’m not afraid that something might go wrong because you’ve successfully proven to me on several occasions that you can handle far more than most.”

A grin forms slowly on Dan’s lips. “Did you just give me a compliment without attaching a single insult to it?”

With a lazy stretch against Dan, Lucifer groans, “Don’t get spoiled on my incapacitated condition; I assure you it won’t last.”

“Incapacitated? Are you telling me you’re wiped out because of what I did?” Dan starts to laugh.

Lucifer halfheartedly raises his hand from where it was resting across Dan’s stomach and twirls it out slowly. “Yes, yes, go on—have a laugh at my expense! I’ll punish you for it later.” He sounds irritated, but Dan can feel him smiling against his side.

“Oh c’mon, I tired out _the Devil_. That’s a hell of a thing to be proud of.” He continues to laugh softly and before he can stop himself, plants a kiss on Lucifer’s forehead.

“Bad pun definitely intended,” Lucifer grumbles, pecking a kiss on Dan’s chest.

After a little while of silence, the expression on Dan’s face grows thoughtful. “Seriously though, you’ve never done that with anyone before?”

“Nope,” Lucifer says, enunciating the end of the word with a ‘pop.’

A fluttery sensation wriggles in Dan’s stomach. His heart seems to slow.

He takes a deep breath and pulls Lucifer a little closer to him. In a hushed voice, he says, “Thank you for showing me how you feel.”

Lucifer rubs his stubbly cheek against Dan’s skin and sighs contentedly through his nose. “Thank you for trusting me to do it my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, that was intense, right? I dunno, maybe it was just me. I've grown quite attached to my versions of these characters and it's actually affecting me really strongly. I do hope you enjoyed this! The next chapter is gonna be quite interesting, stay tuned and take care :D
> 
> BTW, the next chapter will be listed in AO3 as CHAPTER 17, even though story-wise it's chapter 16. But from here on out, it should be smoother. Sorry for the mess.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hark! A new character approaches! Also, lots of stuff regarding the case and detective stuff in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After last week's intense ride, I hope this chapter still finds you well-entertained, it is not intense at all.

Dan’s phone alarm goes off promptly at eight in the morning. He wakes from a deep sleep, yawning and stretching lazily in his bed. The sheet on top of him sticks a little from a telltale wet spot over his groin. He raises his brow in mild surprise. Well that’s a first. Good thing it was time to wash the sheets anyway.

He gets up and gathers all his bedding, getting a load going in his washer before starting his day. He welcomes the chance to get back to his full routine since he missed it yesterday. While he gets ready for work, he thinks about the night before.

He can barely put into words what is on his mind, and all the words that he can think of sound cheesy and insignificant, under the circumstances. _Awesome_ seems too cliché, _mind-blowing_ does too. _Overwhelming_ comes close, but doesn’t cover all the bases. One thing is for sure, though: Dan knows he feels different.

It’s like a part of him that had been sorely underused is suddenly getting exercised, and the ache from the exertion is persistent yet satisfying. Something feels better, feels right. It’s absolutely worth it, whatever it is.

Thinking back to how they ended their evening, Dan smiles. Since Lucifer was still recuperating (Dan’s never gonna get over how awesome it is that he tired him out), they spent the rest of their time discussing what should be done about looking into Dan’s ‘unique qualities’—Lucifer’s words. They agreed that Amenadiel might be the best place to start, since he was always more of a scholar than his brother.

The book collection in the penthouse _might_ contain something worthwhile that Amenadiel could make sense of. He’d done it before and Dan wouldn’t be able to read most of what was available anyway.

In an effort to not disturb Amenadiel in what Dan now realizes is a very personal way, he sends him a few texts, explaining the plan and asking for his help. Amenadiel sends him a reply, saying he’ll get started later that day. Dan wonders if the angel will find anything.

Without knowing anything concrete, all they have right now are scant theories. Touching the blade and successfully resisting it could have done something to Dan’s physiology, making him more perceptive towards anything celestial. He could be a sleeper agent for God, imbued with divine abilities in order carry out some sort of prophecy. He could be a miracle, just like Chloe.

It all seems so out there to Dan, but he wants to get to the bottom of it and Lucifer’s interest has grown considerably after what they did the night before.

But, it does have to take a backseat in terms of priorities—Dan still has his day job to think about.

When he gets to the precinct, there’s a crowd of officers and other station employees standing at the bottom of the stairs, chatting softly. It takes Dan a second to realize what’s going on before the answer presents himself, coming down the stairs and stopping at the last few steps to address everyone with a wave. It’s the new lieutenant.

After Pierce was revealed to be the Sinnerman and killed, the higher ups had installed a man by the name of Gary Johnson. He’d been well-liked by most everyone. He was nearing retirement, however, and there were whispers through the office that he was probably going to either quit soon or be replaced. A few weeks ago, he happened to win the lottery. So as not to disrupt things, he agreed to stay long enough for headquarters to find a replacement. He hadn’t even been here a year.

Dan’s at the back of the crowd and can’t hear everything that’s being said, but it’s clear that Johnson is introducing his successor. The new lieutenant looks to be a rather handsome man in his early forties. He’s at least as tall as Dan, with short dark hair, teased to the side a little, a well-trimmed beard and moustache, and a thick, no-nonsense muscular frame.

He’s letting Johnson do most of the talking, but he doesn’t seem shy. Something final is said and everyone in the room cheers and claps. Dan automatically follows suit; he doesn’t have to guess to know that it’s a welcome-to-the-team applause.

Because this is also a farewell party for Johnson, there’s a cake (there’s always a cake) and other snacks at the back of the room, near where Dan is standing. He hadn’t even realized all of it was there at first. But now that everyone is shuffling towards him, he sidesteps out of the way and tries to navigate towards his desk amidst the crowd.

Not feeling particularly eager to introduce himself, and much preferring to get to work, Dan carefully avoids making eye contact with anyone directly. Even still, the new lieutenant is making his rounds of handshakes in Dan’s general direction. Then all of a sudden, he’s there, right in front of him, smiling with an outstretched hand.

“Lieutenant Zach Field,” he says in a warm, gravelly voice.

Dan snaps-to and gives his best easy-going smile. “It’s a pleasure to have you, Sir!” He takes the man’s hand and shakes it.

The new lieutenant’s grip is solid. There’s a subtle hint of oversensitivity—enough to make Dan’s hand feel a bit ticklish. The man’s been shaking dozens of hands—there’s probably a static charge going around.

Field’s grin softens a bit and his gaze narrows. Their handshake slows to a halt, “Detective Dan Espinoza, right?”

Dan immediately fears the worst. The lieutenant’s probably been briefed on his history, which has had a rocky comeback ever since he turned himself in for taking evidence from the lockup. He plays it cool and goes for a casual shrug and a laugh, “The one and only.”

Lieutenant Field smiles, leans in, and says, “You know, a wise man once told me that the strongest people are the only ones willing to admit that they aren’t infallible. I saw your record; turning yourself in like that took a lot of guts. You’re a good man, Dan—may I call you Dan?”

“Uh, yeah—yes, sir! Thank you.”

Field takes his hand away to point a finger gun at him. “Call me Zach!” He glances over his shoulder, “I’ve got more meet-and-greets to do but I’d like to have a chat with you later. Swing by my office when you got a minute, would you?”

Dan is dumbstruck. He was anticipating a lot of ways meeting the new lieutenant could go down; this definitely wasn’t one of them. He blinks and then nods, “Sure thing, Sir—uh, Zach.”

“Great. Nice meeting you, detective.” He winks good-naturedly and walks off into the sea of people, continuing to say his hellos.

Caught in a state of shock, Dan startles a little when Ella comes up behind him and says, “Whoa. Did you just get singled out by the new lieutenant for an impromptu pep-talk or something?”

Dan jerks his head down to look at her. “You heard all that?”

“No, but I definitely saw the way he was talking to you. Your jaw was practically on the floor. What did he say?”

He furrows his brow, watching the lieutenant make small talk with other officers and noticing how he definitely isn’t giving them as much attention as he gave Dan. “Let’s just say it was way more of a welcome introduction than the one I had with Pierce.”

Ella’s gaze follows his and she nods slowly. “We definitely got an upgrade. I mean—Gary’s been a good boss, too, but I think we all knew it was gonna be temporary. This guy—quite the step-up.” She doesn’t hide the fact that she’s staring at the lieutenant’s ass.

Dan notices and grins, elbowing her lightly in the shoulder to get her attention. “Hey, so what’s up? You got something?”

“What? Oh, right!” Ms. Lopez hands him a two-page print out—it’s the autopsy report on the vic from the presumed gang-related investigation that they started working on yesterday. “So tox screen came up with nothing special—he had a joint sometime around his last meal. It was what he ate that I thought might interest you.”

Dan gives the page a once-over and then frowns. “Damn, it looks like he had a complete Thanksgiving dinner. He even had pie.”

“Mm-hmm, and considering Turkey Day was like, five months ago, it stood out. I mean, I’m not gonna judge, some people just love that kind of thing all the time but…”

“It also looks like a last meal,” Dan finishes. He suddenly gets an epiphany and looks up at the forensic scientist with a smile. “I think I know who did it. Where’s Chloe, has she seen this yet?”

“No, I was on my way to go find both of you, ran into you first. She’s probably at her desk.”

He pats her on the shoulder and starts walking backwards, “Thanks, Ella, great work!” and then turns back around, sprinting to go find his partner.

He finds Chloe walking from her desk, apparently in search of him. She sees the paper in his hands. “Hey, what did you find out?”

Dan hands it to her, “Looks like our murder victim had one hell of a last meal before he died.”

Chloe’s eyes scan the report. “Huh, I’ll bet it was all homemade, too.” Then she comes to the same conclusion that Dan did and looks up at him with a smirk. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He turns to start walking; she falls in step with him. With a grin, he says, “The old couple in the bottom of the apartment complex?”

“Ah-huh, it definitely fits.”

“I’ll bet they were banking on the whole no-one-suspects-the-elderly shtick.”

They get to the elevator. Chloe presses the down arrow and turns, quirking an eyebrow at him. “We almost fell for it.”

He rolls his shoulders back and pops his neck, “Almost.”

~*~

Dan and Chloe get down to the parking garage and decide to take Chloe’s car. They run through the details just to make sure they’ve got everything lined up.

The victim, Carlos Sanchez, lived in an apartment building that housed nearly a dozen other residents. His body had been found in a dumpster six blocks away. It had been determined he’d been killed elsewhere, by repeated blunt force trauma to the head, most likely from a hammer.

Almost all of his neighbors said they had witnessed gang activity regularly, but didn’t want to deal with the cops so no one made any formal complaints. However, the old couple who lived below him, Tom and Sandra Peters, enthusiastically claimed they knew of no such activity and that they kept to themselves. They also said they hadn’t seen him at all the night he was killed, that they were already asleep.

It wasn’t an airtight alibi, but both of them being in their seventies made it easy to dismiss. Their insistence that they never witnessed anything gang-related when all the other neighbors had, could have been a way of covering up the fact that they hated the criminal activity and decided to act on their own (Dan had dealt with a case like that more than once). Coercing Sanchez into their apartment by offering him a big meal, using it as a way to ‘bury the hatchet’ of indifference between them, seemed quite likely.

All of this could have just been conjecture on Dan and Chloe’s part had it not been thanks to the connection they made between the autopsy and a statement given by one of the other residents. The neighbor mentioned in their statement that on the night of the murder, they remembered smelling freshly baked pie and roasted turkey wafting through the whole complex.

It was exactly the detail the detectives needed.

Sure enough, when Dan and Chloe make it to the building, upon announcing themselves, Mr. And Mrs. Peters try to make a break for it. They make it out of the apartment through a side door and almost to their vehicle when Chloe catches the wife and Dan gets the husband.

After making the arrests and cuffing them, Chloe calls in for a team to sweep the apartment and pick up the couple. While she and Dan wait, the Peters try to plead their case. They were tired of the all the gang stuff, they felt they had to take matters into their own hands. They were just concerned citizens making things easier for the law and the cops should be thanking _them_.

Dan and Chloe wisely say nothing, though the look they give each other says it all: _Heard that one before_.

~*~

On the way back to the precinct, Dan says, “Man, I can’t believe we figured that one out so fast.”

“Right?” Chloe exclaims. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time we had such a quick turnaround, but that was so easy.”

He looks at her. “Was it too easy? Are we getting ahead of ourselves?”

She shrugs. “You heard the couple’s little speech. And this doesn’t really feel like they’re covering for anyone.”

“Yeah, and first time murderers always make the most mistakes,” Dan replies with a sigh, settling his gaze ahead.

That gets Chloe thinking. “What do you think that says about our serial killer?”

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, taking a second to work out where she’s going with this. “I don’t know. Maybe, Cortez wasn’t his first murder but he still had to do some extra legwork to make sure he covered his tracks. McMillan’s murder was smoother, in that regard.”

“So are we still sure that the glove pieces Ella found are intentional?”

“Yeah, I think you hit it on the nose with them being left on purpose. It’s somehow too specific to be random.” Dan’s mind continues to chew on that, and then he says, “Wait a second. If they were intentional, and the killer led us to McMillan on purpose…”

Chloe looks at him, narrowing her eyes. “Then that means he knew we would look at McMillan as the prime suspect. He was leaving us breadcrumbs.”

Dan gives an irritated sigh. “And we walked straight into the gingerbread house of horrors.”

Chloe suddenly breaks the seriousness of the mood with snort.

He gives her a look, “What?”

“It’s nothing,” she shakes her head, smiling. Then her smile softens and she clears her throat. “It’s just—it sounds like something Lucifer would say.”

All at once, Dan has no idea how to respond to that—for multiple reasons. He chuckles softly through his nose, hoping that will suffice.

They grow quiet for a minute or so, and Dan can’t help but feel awkward as hell about the turn in conversation. He strikes up a new topic to diffuse the tense mood. “So, did you meet the new lieutenant?”

“Field? Not yet, but you know I’m not much for crowds. I was going to wait until things settled down back at the station. Did you?”

“Yeah,” Dan huffs. “He’s totally not what I expected.”

She gives him a playful smile and bounces her eyebrows, “Oh yeah?”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “Not like _that_. He’s just—I dunno, he said something that threw me off for a second. It was nice, but, it was kinda weird.”

“What did he say?”

“He said only strong people admit they aren’t infallible, and that me turning myself in was commendable—that I was a good man.”

Chloe widens her eyes, “Wow.”

Dan looks at her, “Right? _And_ he wants to ‘have a chat’ with me when we get back to the precinct. I have no idea why. Honestly, I’m kind of nervous about it.”

She considers that thoughtfully, her eyes concentrating on the road, and suggests, “Maybe he wants to offer you a promotion?”

“Now that’s a stretch,” Dan counters dryly.

“Mm, I don’t know.” They exchange a look and then she says, “Ok, let me ask you this: Did you approach him or did he approach you?”

“He approached me—Ella thought he actually singled me out.”

She holds out her right hand, “See, there you go. If he knew about your history and deliberately sought you out to say something positive, it was probably just a formality before making a final decision. Remember it happened to me like that when I made detective?”

He nods, “Yeah, but you’d been hitting it out of the park with helping to solve cases. You got noticed for doing your job well. Zach taking notice of me owning up to doing my job poorly doesn’t seem like something I should to be rewarded for.”

Her head whips to the side for a second, cocking one eyebrow up at him suspiciously. “Zach?”

Dan shrugs innocently. “He asked me to call him by his first name.”

Chloe keeps her eyes narrowed, “Ah-huh.”

He grins. “It’s not what you think. Just wait till you meet him. He’s at least twenty years younger than Lieutenant Johnson, and _way_ more personable than Pierce.”

She smirks, “That bar’s pretty low.”

“Yeah. Man, I’m glad that asshole’s dead,” Dan says off-handedly. He looks at her suddenly and says, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

Chloe swallows and shakes her head. “No, it’s ok. Besides, I think you have more right than most to say that about him.”

His gaze shifts to stare at his lap. “I guess.” He looks back up at her, “But he still meant something to you. I don’t want you to think that my hatred for the guy makes me think any less of you.”

The skin around her eyes tightens a bit and she manages a small smile, glancing at him. “I know.”

Dan feels suddenly compelled to add, “And that goes for Lucifer, too. I know I was pretty hard on you for defending him and I had no right to make you feel like you had to choose between him and our friendship.”

She reaches out and takes his hand, gives it a squeeze. “You never made me feel that way. I knew you were still grieving and I thought it was just better that I gave you some space.” She puts her hand back on the wheel and says, “I just wish you and him could have patched things up before he left.”

He averts his gaze and nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says with a degree of strain. Damn, he wishes he could tell her the truth.

Chloe mistakes his tone and comes to a conclusion. “That’s why you asked about him last week, isn’t it?”

Dan remembers how ready he’d been to bash Lucifer’s face in only last week. Fuck, _so much_ has changed since then. He tries for ambiguity so that he doesn’t have to outright lie to her, or give too much away. “More or less,” he answers softly.

She gives him a hopeful smile. “I’m sure he would have appreciated that.”

He gets the sense that Chloe is still working to stay strong despite how much she misses Lucifer. Dan figures that if he were still in the dark about everything, he’d crack a joke to lighten the mood. He gives it a shot. “Yeah, and he’d probably never let me live it down, either.”

“Oh, now well that’s a given,” she says pointedly. Her smile persists as she focuses on the traffic ahead.

A pained, sad feeling twists in his stomach. He wishes he could tell her everything. He’s afraid it would just end up hurting her.

Dan looks at Chloe and smiles back.

~*~

They return to the precinct. Dan tells her that he better go see the new lieutenant and get whatever it is out of the way before it eats at him any longer. Chloe tries again to convince him it’s nothing to worry about and says they’ll meet up later.

He steps into the elevator, pushes the button for the floor where Field’s office is. He takes a few deep breaths.

He knows it can’t be that bad. Well, actually, he doesn’t. It could be bad. Dan thinks it’s more likely to be bad than good, considering his history. But, for some unknown reason, he’s managed to stay on the force this long, so...

He thinks about how surprised he was when he was released and told that he was going to be reinstated and demoted, but receive no further punishment. He’d been in jail for less than a week. The process seemed streamlined, though truth be told, he’d never been in jail before that, so he couldn’t really be sure it was normal procedure or not.

That’s when a thought occurs to him, and he’s not quite sure he knows how to feel about it.

What if his release _was_ fast tracked? What if his reinstatement and demotion weren’t just for keeping up appearances? What if a certain someone had used his influence and his bargaining powers to make it happen?

Dan recalls Chloe citing several instances where she was certain that Lucifer had done something charitable and truly selfless—except that the acts were always anonymous, so she had no way to prove it. But they were things that followed cases she and him had solved and they were always staggering in their generosity. It had created a pattern that, at the time, Dan didn’t want to see, but he sees it now.

Did the Devil get him his job back? If so, at what cost? And why? Would Dan have been convicted had Lucifer not interfered?

Just as these thoughts start to take shape and get his blood racing, the elevator doors open.

Field’s office is across and to the right, within sight. He’s at his desk, reading a file. His door is open.

Dan strolls up and is about to wrap his knuckles against the doorjamb to announce himself when Zach Field snaps his head up and grins. “Dan! Come on in—and close the door, would you?”

 _Shit_. Closing doors usually means something serious. Still, Dan tries not to panic.

“Have a seat,” Zach offers, pointing across from him with the file still in his hand. He closes it and sets it facedown—which, while that shouldn’t be noteworthy, Dan feels it’s done on purpose. He takes a seat across from him.

Field’s eyes glance out to the walkway behind Dan, then zero back in on him with a neutral gaze. “Answer me a question Dan, and be honest. There are no wrong answers.”

Weird way to start a conversation—but its fine, Dan can roll with it. He sighs and gives a shrug. “Sure.”

The lieutenant inhales, pauses, and then asks, “Do you like working here?”

_What the hell is that supposed to imply?_

Dan breathes deep and keeps his tone calm, “Of course, Sir.” Field gives him a questioning smirk; “Uh, Zach—sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know I’m breaking routine by being informal. That’s just how I’ve always operated. Formalities are like social masks: if you really want to get to know people, everyone’s gotta have their mask off for it to mean anything.”

Raising his brow, Dan nods slowly, “Can’t argue with that.” Then he frowns and looks at Zach curiously, taking a chance. “Why’d you ask if I liked working here?”

Lieutenant Field shrugs, “I’m surprised you stuck it out even after you got demoted. Most people would sooner quit or at least transfer than go through all the ridicule I’m sure you had to go through.”

“Guess I don’t know when to quit,” Dan says, smiling.

Zach points at him. “And that’s the kind of man I want on my side. You see, I’m new in town; no one here has ever heard of me, so I need to make a positive impression that I can stand by. Because of your fluctuating reputation, you’ve had a chance to see both sides of how everyone here treats each other. I figure that if anyone can be straight with me about what this department needs to work best as team, it would be you.”

Dan blinks, speechless. He gasps, “Uh, wow. Thank you.” Then, thoughts start pouring in. He narrows his gaze a little. “And uh, what—what exactly are you wanting from me? I’m sorry; I just want to be clear.” There’s an undercurrent in his words that he hopes the lieutenant picks up on.

Field shakes his head, “I’m not looking for a snitch. I don’t want to step on toes, but neither do I want to be undermined. I want to know what the work environment here is like, good and bad, without having a single person named. Is that something you’d be interested in helping me with? As always, there are no wrong answers.”

The casual nature with which Zach speaks gives Dan enough comfort to relax in his seat. He is blown away by how this conversation is moving. To keep the pleasant mood going, he half-jokes with a shrug, “How much time you got?”

Zach smirks. “I’ll do you one better—talk is always better with a few beers—off duty, of course. I hear the Paddock is the place where all the diehards go to talk shop, unless you have a better idea?”

The Paddock is the last place Dan wants to be seen having a beer with the new lieutenant. He knows what some people would think, and it would just scream brownnosing. There’s definitely a lot to talk about with regards to favoritism, he thinks.

Dan says, “Actually, there’s bar on La Brea—just called the Little Bar. It’s a lot more low-key, better beer selection, too.”

“Perfect, it’ll give me an excuse to explore the area a little more.” He stands up, so does Dan. “I have no life outside of my work—you say when and I’ll meet you there.” He extends his hand.

Quickly, Dan shakes its. He grins and throws out, “We could do tonight. Say, eight?”

“Eight it is. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll let you get back to your partner,” he motions with his chin behind Dan, “better go assure her you haven’t been fired,” he says, laughing.

He smiles and then glances over his shoulder to see Chloe leaning over the railing. She’s facing away from the office, but he can see her fingers tapping on the bar, lips tight—yep, she’s definitely worried.

“Oh man. All right, well I’ll see you tonight, then.” He waves at him and then heads out.

The moment the door is open and he walks up to her, her eyes flick to Field’s office and then back to Dan questioningly. “So? What happened? How did it go?”

Dan can't help but chuckle and shake his head. “Well, it wasn’t bad, I’ll say that much.” They start walking and head down the stairs. Once he’s out of earshot of the lieutenant’s office, he elaborates. “He wants my opinion on how to make our department run better.”

“What? Dan, that’s great!” She elbows him in the ribs and gives him a smirk, “Told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Oh c’mon, I saw your face, you were _so_ worried.”

“I was _concerned_ , yes, but I think I had good reason to be. He’s new; we don’t know what kind of person he is.”

As they head towards Chloe’s desk (out of habit), Dan mentions, “He made the same point, actually. In fact, we’re going for drinks tonight so I can get him up to speed on the social politics of the station.”

They arrive at her desk and Chloe whirls around to face him, “Drinks?”

He rolls his eyes at her. “C’mon, not like that. I swear, even though I’m pretty new to this side of myself—I think I’d be able to tell if he was, um, interested in me.”

Not entirely swayed, Chloe nods slowly and raises her brow, “Ah-huh. Well, at least he’s in good hands,” she says, smiling at him. Dan grins back and she points a finger at him, “Don’t let all this attention get to your head, though.”

He sighs and flexes his shoulders back, looping his thumbs in his belt loops, “Might be too late for that.”

Chloe gives an eye roll and grabs a file folder from her desk and shoves it against his chest, “Just for that, you get to finish the write up for the Sanchez case.”

His grin persists, “All right, fine. I’m better at it anyway.”

She laughs, “Dan! Jeez, one little ego boost from the lieutenant and suddenly you can’t stop being pleased with yourself, can you?”

“Well I was _going_ to say that I’m better at doing paperwork, but you’re way better at compiling evidence, which, one could argue, is far more important.”

“Nice save. Speaking of which,” she gathers what they have on file so far for their serial killer case. “I’m going to set up a photo spread. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.”

“Cool, you know where to find me.”

~*~

About two hours pass before Chloe comes to fetch Dan and bring him into a conference room where she has a board with crime scene photos pinned up. There are sticky notes all over the board as well, some with detailed notes, others with big question marks on them.

“All right, so what did you figure out?” he asks, taking a look at the board casually.

“Ok, so, I was going through everything we found at McMillan’s house versus how little we found in the warehouse with Cortez. Virtually everything, except the audio recorder, linked to McMillan’s death, was from his own house.”

Dan nods. “Yeah, the killer made do with what he had. He had to know McMillan would have everything he needed in order for it to all work out.” He stares at a photo of the dead contractor, before and after he was drowned with his own damn house paint. Dan’s glad he’s never been a fan of the color ‘Orange Froth.’

Chloe holds up her index finger, “Right, but what if he actually didn’t completely plan it out? What if he had a general idea of what was available, but improvised with whatever was around?”

He looks at the photos again, focuses on the warehouse scene, eyeing the chains and cables used to string up Diego Cortez. He narrows his eyes. “You think the killer did it with Diego, too?”

“That’s exactly what I think! Other than the heroin dart, the chains and the cables could all have been sourced from the warehouse—typical stuff you’d find to lock up a shipping container or use as tie-downs in transportation.”

He looks back at her. “Did forensics find anything that can prove that, though?”

Chloe shrugs and gives a lopsided frown. “There weren’t any unique deposits on the chains or the cables that say they came from _that_ warehouse specifically and not another one nearby. But it would fit the killer’s profile.”

Dan thinks for a moment, and then says, “Yeah, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, until we get another murder, we can’t know for sure that’s his M.O.”

His gaze drifts back to the board. One of the photos is a snapshot of the killer’s note that was left taped to the audio recorder. “Any ideas on the note?”

She walks up beside him, looking at the image. “I don’t know why, but something about it feels—I don’t know, familiar.”

He glances at her, “I got that feeling, too. Don’t know where to go with it, but good to know I’m not alone. Whoever this asshole is, he sure knows how to get under our skin.”

And that’s when it hits him. An unsettling feeling he’s felt before. He’s not sure if he should say anything. And then Chloe does it for him. “What if it’s a cop?”

His brow creases and he inhales through his nose. “Well that would explain why we’ve had a tough time of it—they’d know everything we’d look for, and everything we wouldn’t.”

“It’s the note,” she says. She leans forward, examining it with more scrutiny. “He’s doing this for us. It’s like a big game to him; he wants to challenge us in ways that he knows will be hard to track.”

“I mean, do we even think it’s a ‘he’? I know it’s kind of just what rolls off the tongue but we can’t rule it out.”

“That’s true. But—doesn’t the wording in the note make you think it’s a man? That’s what made me think it felt familiar.”

Dan reads the note again carefully.

He was hogging all the credit and he ain’t even your guy!  
Couldn’t let him steal my thunder, now could I?  
Stay tuned for my next installment,  
you’re gonna love it

Chloe’s right. It _does_ feel more like language a man might use. The only thing is, when it comes to homicide, Dan’s learned enough to know that you can’t really single anyone out. The case they handled today with the elderly couple proves that.

He sighs in defeat and scratches the back of his head. He starts pacing around the conference room. “I hate to say it, but the cop angle is looking more and more like the best possibility. I mean, both Diego Cortez and James McMillan were, from a certain standpoint, easy targets. Neither of them was married, both lived alone.”

Chloe turns and leans over the table, bracing against it with her hands. She nods slowly, flicking her gaze from him to other photos on the table. “Their work routines were probably easy to map out, too. Do we still think McMillan’s murder was unplanned?”

Dan crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Honestly, I think the killer got lucky. McMillan probably wasn’t intentional like Cortez, but he was easy enough to study that it worked out so that we still have hardly anything to show for it.”

“Maybe there’s just something we’re not seeing.”

“I think that’s the point.”

She looks up at him. “What do you mean?”

Dan extends one of his hands out towards the table. “They know how to hide their tracks and they know how to mislead evidence. The answer could be right in front of us and they’re probably just laughing at our expense.”

“Well then, we just keep looking. It’s all we’ve got until another murder falls into our laps.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation, “Yeah, maybe then we’ll actually catch a break.”

Chloe echoes his tone and nods slowly, “Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say thank you for sticking it out as long as you have. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if wasn't super riveting. Can't wait to share more with you soon! Hope you're enjoying your weekend!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan hangs out with the new boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, sorry. But the chunk that comes after it just became so big on it's own I had to break things up. Expect another chapter in a few hours or less!

Dan is sitting at the end of the bar counter, twirling a matchbook in his hands, trying not to freak out.

He and Chloe had spent the rest of the day coming up with a whole lot of nothing, which, while discouraging, paled in comparison to the comment she made just before she left about Dan enjoying his ‘not-date’ tonight.

He knows she was just teasing him. But still, it wasn’t until she’d said something that he suddenly started to wonder if maybe he’d misjudged Zach’s intentions.

Now that Dan’s (mostly) acknowledged that he’s attracted to men, he suddenly wonders what that changes. Will his male friendships be impacted by it? Is he going to have to start watching himself from staring at someone who catches his eye at the gym?

Blowing out a sigh, Dan taps the matchbook on the wood counter top and lets his eyes wander around the bar. It’s a nice place—has an older feel to it that he’s always found comforting.

Well-maintained, dark brown leather upholstered seating adorns the main room, complete with two pool tables at the back under ornate, stained glass, domestic brand beer lampshades. The back of the bar is a giant mirror with dozens of shelves full of all kinds of liquor. Fancy glasses hang from the ceiling, and the beer taps line the bottom row. The lighting on the glass wall is warm white and makes everything glint with a golden hue.

What if nothing has to change? Why would his friendships be impacted at all? He shouldn’t be staring at _anyone_ at the gym anyway. It’s rude and he’s not there to pick up dates, regardless of what’s in their pants.

He actually hopes that Lieutenant Field is serious about his offer—Dan would love to help. Not to mention, he’s looking forward to having some social time with someone different, someone new.

It’s been a while since he’s been around anyone who wasn’t a demon, or an angel, or a miracle, or his therapist. His daughter doesn’t count, obviously. And Lucifer…well, that’s its own kind of complicated.

It’s not that he doesn’t care about them—he’s grateful for all of the people he has in his life. But ordinary people have a place in his world, and lately, he feels like he’s been lacking in them.

He smirks at himself. Damn, he’s had one hell of a week. He just needs a little break, that’s all.

It’s at that moment that he feels a strong breeze hit him from the side. He looks over to see the door open and Zach Field entering the bar.

The lieutenant’s sharp gaze searches for a moment before spotting Dan and grinning. He strides over to him and they shake hands. “All right, you picked the place but I’m the one grilling you for information so I’ll pick up the tab. What’re you having?”

Dan makes a quick judgment call and asks, “Wanna split a pitcher?”

“You read my mind!” Zach claps his hand on Dan’s shoulder and then raises it to get the bartender’s attention. He tilts his head to the side, “Import, domestic, or craft?”

“You’re buying, you pick,” Dan replies. He’s curious to see what kind of beer his new boss will go for. Too late, he wonders if that was why Zach asked him first. Damn it.

Field doesn’t seem perturbed by the deflection and just gives him a quick nod before the bartender, a young woman with tattoo sleeves on both arms, takes his order.

They end up with a pitcher of amber ale. Dan doesn’t know what kind, but it’s quite drinkable and that’s good enough for him.

After toasting him and taking a hearty gulp, Zach starts right in with, “So, where should we start?”

Dan smirks and motions with his beer in his hand, “Actually, I know exactly where we should start. To be honest, I didn’t pick this bar just because they have better beer options.”

Zach raises his glass and smiles, “Well then lay it on me, I’m all ears.”

~*~

Over the course of the evening, Dan gives Zach his honest observations about the department.

He talks about how ass-kissing is frowned upon, although it’s relatively easy to buy people off (no thanks to Lucifer for having kept the ‘look the other way’ policy alive and well the entire time he was working with the LAPD).

He mentions that one of the ways he’s seen the precinct thrive is when no one is left out when it comes to case work. If everyone’s status is elevated, even a little, by working together, it creates less opportunity to become singled out or fall behind. (Dan hates to admit it, but it was Pierce’s unyielding attitude of, ‘everyone works, no one is idle,’ that made a lasting impression that improved morale).

He discusses how racial profiling has been overlooked and that it needs to be addressed and handled differently. He remembers when Amenadiel and a young friend of his had both been treated wrongly by two officers, and how it could have been so much worse had he not intervened. Those officers received written warnings. Nothing else came of it. He knows that had he not made a complaint in the first place, they might not have been reprimanded at all.

He doesn’t explicitly name names, because Zach asked him not to and he understands why. But he does tell him exactly where to find the write-ups that anyone receives for misconduct, because it just so happens they’re tucked away out of sight. Dan knows this from when he first started working for the department, because it was where he was assigned. He still goes down to Records on occasion to make sure they never get too far out of reach.

Zach listens to everything he says, only asking questions for clarification, and hardly ever makes a comment so as to interrupt him as little as possible. He takes a few notes, too, which is its own kind of assurance that he really means to pay attention to these concerns.

Dan feels bad that he didn’t expect the lieutenant to be serious, but he’s grateful that he’s been able to voice some topics he’d always thought deserved more awareness. It’s actually really refreshing, while also being just a little bit surreal.

He considers that it must say something about him if he’s so convinced that things won’t turn out well every time he’s confronted with a new situation. He knows part of it is in being a detective—everything tends to become suspect, even when it shouldn’t be.

Another part of him wonders if it has to do with how he’s grown bitter over the years about seeing the ugliness in others, and his confidence in his abilities as a father, as a husband, as a cop—even as a person. More stuff for his therapist to help him figure out.

Once Dan feels he’s exhausted a good portion of what he’d planned to talk about, Zach gets them a second pitcher, and the conversation naturally shifts away from work.

“So what drew you to Los Angeles?” Dan asks.

“A woman,” Field says. They both chuckle for a moment and then he corrects himself, his expression growing solemn. “Well, to be clear, it’s not what you think. It was my mother.”

Dan’s face softens, recognizing at once the look in the lieutenant’s eyes as one he’d seen in himself not long ago. “I’m sorry, Zach, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s ok; how were you supposed to know?” He takes a generous sip of his beer and says, “Anyway, it’s—,” he stops and waves a hand dismissively, “no, I don’t need to bore you with my sob story.”

“Dude,” Dan smacks the back of his free hand against his boss’s arm. “You’ve listened to me talk all night _and_ you bought the beer. The least I can do is let you bore me with your sob story!”

They burst into laughter, clink their glasses, and drink. When things settle down, Field gives a shrug. “All right—but I warn you—it’s a weird story.”

Dan smiles and shakes his head, “Whatever, man. Either way, I’m here to listen.”

Zach smiles, “All right.” He clears his throat, his tone softening. “She and I used to be close when I was younger. But, you know how it goes: you grow up, find your own path, time and distance separate you from your roots, and before you know it, you’ve lost touch with those who were once closest to you. When I finally got serious about wanting to get back in touch with her, I learned that she had gone missing. So, naturally, I made it my personal mission to find her. Unfortunately, it took far too long to figure out she was in L.A. By the time I made it here, her trail had gone cold.”

“Jesus,” Dan says. He furrows his brow, “That’s really rough, man, I’m sorry.”

Zach nods slowly, “Thanks.” He takes a drink and says resolutely, “Of course, I haven’t given up.” He looks around at the other patrons in the bar. “She’s out there, somewhere. I just hope she’s six feet above and not six feet under.”

“Amen to that,” Dan says, raising his glass.

The lieutenant’s gaze grows cool and detached as he watches the people around them. “If I find out it’s the latter, not even God will take mercy on their soul when I’m through with them.”

Dan sips his beer silently.

Zach turns back and in his usual drawl, he says, “So, what about you? You from here, or did you ford across the river of fate like I did?”

“Uh, San Antonio, actually,” Dan replies. Privately, he wonders what to make of the last few statements that his boss has made. For the most part, Zach seems to be a rather level-headed guy, but occasionally, his vernacular seems a little strange. He tries to ignore it for now.

“Oh, a genuine Texan, huh? The City of Angels must have been one hell of a culture shock to you then.”

Dan smiles and stares down at his glass for a moment, blushes a little. “Yeah, it was at first. But it’s what I wanted. I always dreamed of living on the coast and I was looking for a change in perspective, something to snap me out of my comfort zone.”

“Did it work?” Zach asks.

In the span of seconds, Dan recalls his life in L.A. The good, the bad, the weird, and the wonderful. He smiles and nods slowly, “It did. Didn’t happen overnight of course, but they say it’s about the journey, not the destination, right?”

Field extends his glass out and gives him a grin. “Couldn’t have said it better myself!”

~*~

Dan had intended on calling it quits by ten o’clock. He’d lost track of time in the best possible way by enjoying himself, and it was a little after eleven thirty when he and the lieutenant finally parted ways.

Damn, the man could drink!

In total, they’d split two pitchers and one final beer each after that. Dan had a solid buzz by the end while Zach had seemed pretty sober throughout. He was able to keep the vibe going no problem, but even in Dan’s intoxicated state, he could pick up the signals that he was the drunker of the two of them.

Each made sure the other had his keys, wallet, and phone. Zach said he didn’t live far away and that he would walk, but insisted that Dan get an Uber and stayed with him until it showed up. He even paid for it, as an apology for how late it was.

By the time Dan gets home, he makes sure to arrange for a pick-up in the morning. He’d left his car at the station and walked to the bar, since it was only about thirty minutes away on foot, and had intended to get it after drinks with the lieutenant.

As he gets himself ready for bed, a perpetual smirk is on his face from a combination of good beer and good (if a little odd) company. He and Zach had been able to chat quite naturally outside of work-related subjects all evening.

It’s kind of weird getting along so well with his boss. Dan has always thought of himself as a straightforward, easygoing guy, liked or at least tolerated by most. But befriending his superior isn’t something he ever thought he’d do. Still, he doesn’t feel like reading into it too much, and considers that he should just be grateful that it’s shaping up to be a way better situation than he expected it to be.

He does the standard double-check on his alarm to make sure it’s on and then settles under the covers. The alcohol in his system is right at the golden point of absorption where he feels warm and sleepy, but not sick or burned out. He’s able to fall asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, glad I got this out there. Hopefully I still capture your interest. Chapter 19 will be on it's way very soon!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex, talk, and spirituality. Lots of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H'oh boy. This a meaty chapter. It's designed to be sort of intense and exhausting, so that you will feel what the characters feel. I could be conflating that with my sleep-deprived mind. ENJOY!

Dan rolls onto his stomach and feels the soft grit of sand press against his skin. He lifts up with both hands and looks around. He’s north of the Santa Monica Pier, the telltale imagery of the Ferris wheel, even out of focus and dim, is an iconic indicator of his dream-location.

Its late afternoon; the sun is glowing off in the distance over the horizon, shedding light, but no warmth. The ocean waves lap at the sand, but he can’t smell the sea, which is oddly disheartening. It still looks nice, at least.

He’s barefoot, wearing his favorite pair of black and blue board shorts and a short-sleeve button-up shirt that is hanging open, exposing his chest. Interestingly, while he can discern the specific colors of his shorts, he can’t seem to comprehend what color his shirt is, just the shape of it. Dream-attire is weird.

He gets into a standing position and tries to take a better look at his surroundings. It’s bizarre seeing the beach with no one on it. In fact, there aren’t even birds in the sky that he can see.

A sense of closeness, tall and lean, presses against his back. Long, slender arms wrap over his waist and a soft sigh exhales beside his ear. “There you are. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

Dan settles in against Lucifer’s front and keeps his gaze ahead at the dream-sunset. “I stayed out a little late, but that’s not a first. How could you tell? I thought time was drastically different down where you are.”

“It is, but time had little to do with how I noticed. You’ve been drinking—it makes my usual route into your subconscious feel like a trip through the foggy haze of San Francisco.”

“I had no idea it would do that, but I guess it makes sense. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lucifer says cheerily, turning Dan around in his embrace to look down at him. “I assume it means that you had a good night and I’d like to hear more about it.”

Dan looks at him. Lucifer is wearing a similar outfit: shorts with an open button-up shirt, although, naturally, the clothing looks much more expensive on him. Dan gives him a curious smile. “No remarks, no teasing, asking me how my night was…Who are you and what have you done with Lucifer Morningstar?”

Lucifer raises his eyebrows and gives him a look. “I could skip the small talk and go straight to the part where I ask you to get on your knees and give me a proper ‘hello’ if that’s what you’re after.”

“There he is,” Dan says, chuckling. He shakes his head, “No, this is good. It’s nice. I just…well, you know.” He averts his gaze for a moment.

“No, actually, I don’t. I may be in your subconscious, Daniel, but I’m not able to get inside the deepest parts of your psyche—that’s all yours.” Lucifer leans forward and kisses him. As he pulls back, flicks his tongue on the edge of Dan’s lips and smiles. “So, tell me: what were you not saying?”

With a gulp, Dan keeps his eyes looking down between them, sighing loudly. “What I didn’t say but what I was thinking was that I never expected you to be like this, and honestly, it’s a little hard to believe.” He feels awful for being truthful, which is a strange feeling all on its own. But at least he didn’t hold it in for very long.

“Much better!” Lucifer replies brightly.

Dan steps back out of reach. “What? How is that better?”

“The more you’re honest with me, the easier it will be to be honest with yourself.”

“So this was a test? Or—or what, a lesson?”

Lucifer rolls his eyes and groans, “No.” He makes a flustered sound and looks off to the side. “Perhaps I’m going about this the wrong way. I see it now; never shy away from my strengths: we definitely should have started with the blowjob.”

Dan holds up his hands, “No, no! I mean—that’s never a bad place to start—but, shit—I shouldn’t have said anything. What you were doing was perfectly normal and nice and I had to go and get paranoid about it.” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I just—I dunno—I’ve never dated a guy before, let alone a guy who happens to be _you_. So, forgive me if I get a little edgy about not knowing the parameters of a same-sex relationship, or trusting a man who I used to hate with every fiber of my being, and who made it his personal mission to make my life a living hell whenever it suited him. I’m sorry that feeling hasn’t completely gone away yet.”

Dan is upset with himself and feels like a fucking idiot. He rests his hands on his hips and starts pacing, keeping his gaze averted towards the sand.

All is quiet between them for a moment and then, across from him, he looks up to see the Devil on a beach lounger, giving him a slow clap.

It’s absolutely unfair that Lucifer is pissing him off with his total lack of seriousness, but turning him on in the process, looking downright appetizing with his shirt hanging open and his confident, ‘Yes, I know I’m irresistible’ grin.

Blowing out a sigh, Dan waves a hand at him. “Why are you clapping, man?”

“Because, you coming to terms with the douchey ways of your past must mean that you’re ready to let go of them. Don’t you see? We’re making progress, Daniel!” He smiles delightedly and then softens his tone. “Now, we can either celebrate with you giving me a ‘thank you’ beej, or we can put that on hold for a little while and I can get back to showing you just how nurturing and supporting a partner the Devil can really be.” He holds out his hands. To one side of him, there appears a towel, the other side, a second beach chair.

Dan huffs a laugh, shaking his head. He stretches out on the lounger, adjusting it so that he can lie on his stomach. He folds his arms and rests his head on top of them.

Lucifer mirrors him so that they’re facing each other. After a spell of silence, he looks at Dan thoughtfully and says, “Being with a man really isn’t so different, you know. Of course, there are some structural differences, but in truth, the more you know, the better your skill set is as a lover.”

“I know,” Dan replies softly. “It’s just new, I guess. I mean, it’s only been like a week since I started exploring this part of myself.”

Lucifer bounces his eyebrows. “And what an enlightening week it’s been.”

That brings a thought to Dan’s mind. He narrows his gaze. “Actually, that reminds me. I wanted to ask you about what we did last night.”

“What about it?”

“Part of me still feels, I’m not sure how to say it, but—aware of it, maybe? I can still feel _something_. I was wondering if you feel different at all, since you’ve had a day to recover.”

The Devil chuckles, “It’s been much longer than that for me, remember?”

Dan recalls in the beginning how resistant Lucifer was to tell him how long he’d been gone. It could be stupid to try and ask again, but before he can keep his mouth shut, his curiosity gets the better of him. “Will you tell me how long?”

A strange look passes over Lucifer’s eyes and he grows quiet. He draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “For every day that goes by for you, almost two weeks pass for me.”

Worry riddles his face. “Two weeks? Then you’ve been gone for—.”

“—Fourteen months next Tuesday,” Lucifer supplies promptly.

Dan reaches out, touches his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because what would be the point, except to make you feel pressured by something that is very much out of your control. You forget, Daniel: I am an immortal. Two weeks to me is nothing when compared to the length of my entire existence.” Lucifer’s hand slips over Dan’s that’s resting on his arm, squeezes it tightly. An aching, compassionate look fills his gaze. “That’s what makes you lot so bloody special. You cram so much into your infinitesimal life spans and then they’re over before I’ve even had a chance to blink. If there’s one consolation to me being in Hell, it’s that the dilation of time allows me to experience every instance away from it in a more gradual sense. I’m able to appreciate things differently because I’m forced to wait, to savour the moments as they come because they’re all I have to keep my soul from withering up. Every now and again, I’ve heard you wonder as to what I’m getting out of our time together. Well, now you know.”

Dan is stunned into silence. His mind can only handle so much at once, and this, this feels _huge_ —impossibly huge. He’d forgotten about the immortality part. He’s not sure he’s ever considered what it really meant. And how could he? His concept of time is fundamentally different, and there’s no changing that. All he can do is find a way to accept it and move forward. His mind struggles to process everything, the meaning in Lucifer’s words, in his actions. It’s so much to take in.

And to think that Lucifer, the Devil, an angel, a celestial being that’s been around longer than Dan can even fathom, goes to such great lengths to stay connected to humankind that he’s willing to share a part of his soul with someone like him…

In that moment, the weight of everything that has happened, everything that Dan’s experienced, everything that Lucifer is, the realities of Heaven and Hell, his own sense of existence and mortality, all come crashing down on his mind with such force and speed that he goes completely still, awestruck by sheer wonder and absolute dread.

Tears breach the surface and shed from his eyes.

Lucifer slides off of the chair and onto the sand, swiftly and easily pulling Dan into his lap. He holds him close.

Neither of them moves for several seconds, or maybe hours. It’s hard to tell.

Dan is stiff and wide-eyed, staring at nothing, but seeing everything in his mind’s eye for what it really is. It’s all finally sunk in. He feels vulnerable and insignificant, staggered by the immensity of everything. It’s like the first time he freaked out about learning the truth, but somehow this is different. Way different. It feels more real. He doesn’t understand why.

As if in response (was he talking out loud?), Lucifer provides an answer, his voice tranquil. “The first time, you still had much to question. No part of you questions it now. It’s the certainty that’s unsettling.”

The sound of Lucifer’s voice cut’s through the loud roar of shock and Dan blinks. His throat feel’s rough and his lips are dry (was he screaming?). He feels shaky, like a bad adrenalin rush from sudden, overexertion. He has to work a little hard to find his words. “What, uh, what just happened?”

Lucifer gently nuzzles the top of his head with his cheek. “You had a bit of a breakdown. But it’s all right, as usual, your recovery time is impeccable. You were catatonic for a few seconds, raving only for a few minutes after that. Truly, there must be something different about you—I’ve never seen a human circle back to their sanity quite the way you did.” He pecks a kiss on Dan’s forehead, shifts his position and smiles down at him. “Well done!”

“How can you be so calm about this?” he asks warily.

“This is hardly my first rodeo, Daniel. I’ve witnessed countless human minds fall to pieces over the years—and from far less.” He looks him over, “How are you faring?”

Dan is still squished against Lucifer’s chest. He shrugs, “Better than I thought I would be, I guess.” He carefully moves away to sit up on his own, a guilty look on his face. “Sorry I freaked out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s perfectly normal. But do you think we can continue our conversation without it happening again? I usually enjoy repeat performances but that is hardly one that bears repeating.”

With a long sigh, Dan flops back onto the sand, propped up by both of his forearms. “I think I’m ok.”

“Splendid!” Lucifer nimbly flips onto his side and supports himself with one elbow, his fist holding up his head. “So, before your mind exploded, you’d asked me if what we did last night had any residual effect on me. Are you ready for the answer?”

Dan smirks, “That sounds ominous. Should I be worried?”

“That depends—are you ready to handle more otherworldly talk?” Lucifer has a patient expression, but the look in his eyes suggests that he’s a little worried.

Dan doesn’t want to disappoint him, but he doesn’t want to fall off the mental deep end again, either. The only way for it to get easier is if he just rolls with it.

He nods slowly, “Yeah, I think I am.”

Lucifer gives him a suspicious stare for a second. “Very well. Then yes, there is a …sensation that has lingered. Of course, it’s just a magnification of something that was already there.”

“What do you mean?”

“The pathway that leads me to your subconscious has been improving every time you think of me with enough conviction that it comes across as prayer. What began as a small, jagged trail is on its way to getting paved very soon, I’d imagine.”

Rolling onto his side to mirror Lucifer’s position, Dan furrows his brow. “But it’s only been a week.”

Lucifer reaches out and takes Dan’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He averts his gaze for a moment. “You forget—every time you’ve ever put enough concerted effort into thinking about me, I’ve heard you. It was only a week ago that I finally chose to use the path to reach out to you, but it had already been developing for some time.”

Dan thinks about all the times he stewed angrily over thoughts of Lucifer. He knows it was a lot. He thinks had he known that Lucifer could hear him every single time; he never would have done it. Still doesn’t make it right that he did it at all.

He must not be hiding how he feels because Lucifer squeezes his hand to get his attention. “If it’s any consolation, the very first time it happened, it wasn’t negative.”

“It wasn’t?” Dan can’t think of a time when he didn’t really hate Lucifer—until very recently.

“Do you recall the charity gala I threw at Lux?”

“Yeah, I came to stop Malcolm from killing you, but you already looked like you’d been shot.”

“Yes, well, you were too late for him, but Mr. Dunlear’s greedy little wife got the drop on me. And thanks to your overwhelmingly loud thoughts for my safety, I was distracted enough to get three holes in my Armani that night.”

Dan lets go of his hand to sock Lucifer in the shoulder, making him yelp in surprise. “I fucking knew it! I _knew_ you got shot.” He rolls onto his back and runs his hands through his hair in amazement. He smiles, groaning loudly. “Oh man, I was losing my mind over that for days.”

Lucifer looks at him cheekily, “I know, I heard that, too.”

“Damn you!” Dan laughs.

“You’re far too late for that, darling. Anyway, while we’re on the subject, I’m surprised you never asked me about that night later.”

With a shrug and a cocky grin, Dan replies, “Didn’t want to hear your bullshit.”

“That’s absurd! I would have told you the truth.”

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t have believed a word of it.” He lets his laughter subside and he turns to stare at Lucifer. His eyes slowly move over him from head to toe, his expression softening. “Funny how things change,” he says gently.

The Devil sidles up closer to him and one of his hands snakes across Dan’s stomach to grasp his waist. Lucifer gives him an equally scrutinizing gaze. “Indeed” he purrs, and leans forward for a kiss, which is swiftly and freely given.

Dan lets both of his hands wander along Lucifer’s sides beneath his shirt. His fingertips rub across his ribs and around to his back, pressing against his shoulders as they flex above him.

Lucifer keeps their mouths locked together, seemingly unable to get enough of Dan, his actions fervent, but not frantic. His hand squeezes against Dan’s waist, gradually working upwards over his torso until his fingers reach his chest.

A whisper of tension tweaks across one of Dan’s nipples and he twitches. He can feel more than hear the chuckle it brings from Lucifer’s throat. He drags his hands down Lucifer’s back to slip beneath the hem of his shorts and grip his ass, letting his nails dig in just a little.

As if upping the ante, Lucifer twists harder, getting Dan to buck his hips in response. He pulls his mouth just far enough away to rasp, “I wonder, would you let me take charge?”

Dan smiles, “Seems like you already are.”

Relaxing his hand over Dan’s chest, Lucifer says, “I mean would you be agreeable to me bossing you around a bit, being a little rougher with you? It’s perfectly fine if you’d rather I didn’t. However,” he grins impishly, “Something tells me that you might take to it like a douche to takes to pudding.”

Drawing in his lower lip beneath his teeth, Dan huffs a laugh. “You’ve been sitting on that one for a while, haven’t you?”

Lucifer traces his nose along Dan’s cheek. “Actually, it just came to me. And since you mentioned it, there is _something_ I’d like _you_ to sit on. But, I’d prefer an answer to my question, first.”

Dan leans his head back so that he can look at him more clearly and lets a grin form on his lips. “I’m all yours.”

“Lovely,” Lucifer growls. He kisses Dan once more and then eases back, moving into a standing position. Placing his hands on his hips, he looks down at him intently. “Come here.”

Dan maintains eye contact with him, only glancing down briefly to make sure he doesn’t stumble as he moves onto his knees in front of him.

The Devil draws his cock and balls out of the top of his shorts and lets them hang over the edge. A brief flash of surprise crosses his gaze, like he expected Dan to turn away or hesitate. Seeing that he’s done neither, Lucifer’s lips twitch into a smile. When they melt back to a more severe expression, he says gently, “You can stop or tell me to stop at any time.”

Though it’s distant, Dan can feel his pulse speed up. He’s never done this before, but in his most private moments, he knows he’s always wanted to try. He’s proud of his oral skills with women. It makes him confident enough that he thinks he shouldn’t have much trouble with this. At least he hopes not.

Dan silently acknowledges Lucifer with a single blink of his blue eyes, and waits.

Taking it for the sign that it is, Lucifer draws in a breath through his nostrils, a noticeable thrill going through his eyes. “Give me your mouth.”

Without even so much as a pause, Dan descends on Lucifer’s erection, taking in as much as he comfortably can until it hits the back of his throat. Lucifer exhales softly, one of his hands slipping over Dan’s shoulder for support.

He works his tongue along the shaft and suckles on the tip, gradually settling into a bobbing rhythm with his mouth. Lucifer stands still, letting him get a feel for it.

This is way easier than he thought it would be; it’s gotta be thanks to dream-logic. He has no frame of reference for doing this, only knowing what it feels like to have it done to him, so there is no unexpected scent or taste or discomfort, really. He intends to take full advantage of that.

Dan slides up one hand to wrap around the Devil’s hip. His other hand moves to take hold of Lucifer’s cock. He alternates between suckling on the head and licking his balls. It’s something Dan’s always liked, and he’s rewarded with a feral groan when he does it.

Lucifer gradually slides his other hand up to the back of Dan’s head, but his grip is loose enough that Dan could easily slip out if he wanted to.

“You _are_ a natural, aren’t you?” he coos. Blue eyes flick up to look at him imploringly, and Lucifer grits his teeth. “Let’s see how good you can really be.” He starts thrusting.

A dull, thick sensation hits the back of Dan’s throat. It’s a bit stifling at first, but manageable. He takes Lucifer’s dick as far as he can, matching pace with his thrusts. He works his hand back and forth whenever his mouth isn’t there, steadily speeding up.

Lucifer tosses his head back, breathing shallowly. His grip on the back of Dan’s head starts to instinctively get a little tighter. Dan doesn’t care. He keeps going, relishing in the sounds he’s drawing from Lucifer. Dan’s getting a rush from this, he’s curious to see how long he can keep it up.

Both of Lucifer’s hands suddenly wrap over his head and hold him still. A strangled noise fights its way out of his mouth. He shoves a little harder, almost to the point of choking Dan, who lets him do it, moaning in the back of his throat loud enough that he’s sure Lucifer can feel it.

When Lucifer finally comes, he hisses and his whole body goes rigid. He rolls his head back down to look at Dan fiercely as he watches his orgasm pulse into Dan’s throat. Prepared for this, Dan swallows without much difficulty, and almost wishes he knew what Lucifer tastes like, just to know. Maybe someday.

Between ragged breaths, one of the Devil’s hands moves down. He strokes his thumb across Dan’s cheek lovingly while his cock still rests in his mouth. He gives him a smug look and growls, “Well don’t you look gorgeous?” He admires his handy work for a moment longer and then pulls himself out. He leans forward, quickly smashing their mouths together, all teeth and tongue.

Dan eagerly kisses back, feeling so fucking turned on right now. He’s pitching a very firm tent but hasn’t bothered to touch it. It wasn’t discussed, but he figures that if the last time they were together was any indication, he thinks Lucifer gets excited when he denies himself. It excites him, too, so he has no trouble ignoring his hard-on for the time being—it’ll get handled soon enough.

Lucifer tears his mouth away just long enough to snarl, “I want you, Daniel— _now_.”

The unspoken command in those words compels Dan to turn around, his clothes disappearing as he settles on his forearms and knees in the sand.

A licentious, excited noise bubbles from the Devil’s throat. He positions himself behind Dan, spitting into the palm of his hand before coating his dick with his own saliva. It’s not necessary, but there’s a sexy, filthy aspect to it that definitely turns Dan on.

Lucifer takes no precautions otherwise and pushes his way inside. Both men let forth guttural groans and bask in a moment of closeness. It feels so good, but there’s still a muted quality to it—it’s not what it could be. Dan wants to intensify the feeling. He doesn’t know if that’s what Lucifer wants.

Long, graceful arms glide over his back to grip at his shoulders. Lucifer starts rutting against him roughly. Dan wants more. Fuck, he wants so much more. But he’s still afraid to ask for it.

As if reading his mind, Lucifer’s voice rumbles beside his ear. “Don’t make me beg for it, Daniel. Give me what I want. What we both want.”

Between pants, Dan focuses. It comes easier than it did last time, almost like he can feel his emotions take physical shape and wrap together into a concentrated stream of warm, tangible light. He centers his thoughts on Lucifer and projects outward.

All at once, both of them are immersed in a torrent of sensation. It’s indescribable beyond the feeling of being totally encompassing and intoxicating.

Somewhere between the distant feeling of the sand digging into his skin and Lucifer’s lithe yet unyielding thrusts, Dan finds himself riding a cyclical wave of bliss. The more he expresses his gratitude to Lucifer for sharing this feeling with him, the more it seems to heighten everything.

He can feel rough stubble graze against his shoulder; hot breath against his skin. Sweat beads and runs down his back. One of Lucifer’s hands mercifully whips around to reach for his cock and starts stroking it. Dan shudders; it all feels fucking incredible.

Their bodies smack together, over and over, tension building. Dan’s breathing is ragged, his limbs are shaking. His heart races, he’s on the verge of release already. Lips press against his skin; teeth follow. He thinks of Lucifer, prays to him from the deepest point inside himself.

The strange, certainty/connection feeling spreads through him, and this time he tries to follow where it goes. It feels like—like swimming in a current. Dan moves through it, lets his thoughts of Lucifer carry him like a raft. At the current’s end, there is something immense yet formless, brilliant and somehow invisible. He reaches out towards it. He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s close, so close he can almost touch it. Just a little further. Just a little more.

Lucifer says something to him, but he can’t make it out. The lines between the reality of the dream and his mind start to blur and erode. Sensation churns and builds like a tidal wave, closer and closer. Then a force of light, blinding and fierce, crashes against Dan’s mind and his entire being reels as if hit by a blast of pure, radiant energy. He and Lucifer cry out, their sounds indistinguishable from one another as they both come at the same time.

They’re left quivering, gasping to catch their breath, their bodies pressing tightly together, as if desperate to stay linked.

After what seems like several minutes, Lucifer awkwardly shifts positions, doing his damndest to remain touching as much of Dan as possible while he does so. Once settled, they’re both on their sides, Dan as the little spoon, Lucifer’s tall form draped behind him, holding him like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.

They lie on the beach for quite a while without saying a word.

Lucifer’s breathing is steady against Dan’s back, and he can feel the warmth of his skin emanating off of him like sunlight through a window: soft and enveloping.

There’s still a perceptible difference between how everything feels in the dream versus how it would feel in the real world, but oddly, it’s not quite as pronounced as it was. Alongside it, there is now a glowing sensation, bright and full of ...contentment.

The closest Dan can think to describe it is to compare it to when Chloe was pregnant. He had loved her so much already, but when she was carrying Trixie, a whole new level of joy had come over him that he hadn’t even known existed.

He wonders if Lucifer feels the same way—or if he experienced even _half_ of what Dan experienced.

“Something on your mind?” Lucifer asks, his voice muffled against Dan’s shoulder.

Dan smirks but creases his brow. “How could you tell?”

“Your breathing changed.” He nuzzles against Dan’s neck. “Am I right to assume you’re thinking what I’ve been thinking?”

“I’m not good at that game so I’ll just say I have no clue what you were thinking.”

“Oh, you’re no fun!” Lucifer whines. He clears his throat and says, “But, in all seriousness, I was thinking about what happened this time around.”

“Damn it, should have bet on it,” Dan chuckles softly.

“That’ll teach you,” Lucifer says, laughing with him and giving his shoulder a nibble.

Once their laughter mellows, Dan wonders if he’s ready to talk about this. He’s a little worried it might lead to another freak out. He’s been pretty tough so far (mostly); maybe he hasn’t given himself enough credit. “So…what did happen?”

From behind, he feels Lucifer’s body stiffen. Maybe he’s worried, too. Then, “If I tell you, you must promise me something first. I can guarantee you won’t like it, either.”

That gets Dan to pause for a moment before turning around in Lucifer’s arms to look him in the eyes. He looks hesitant—afraid. Dan has never seen him like this before. A frown riddles his face with worry. “Ok,” he says, only half sure about that.

Lucifer licks his lower lip and inhales gently through his nose. “I need you to give me your word that you will tell absolutely no one what I’m about to tell you. You cannot bend this promise in any way—no accidental slip ups or forgetfulness. This stays between us, end of story.”

Dan starts to pull away to sit up and finds the task difficult at first. Both of them are reluctant to let go of each other. It feels like one of those carnival rides that uses gravity to keep you glued to a wall.

Eventually, they detach and sit facing one another. One of Dan’s hands thrusts out to take hold of Lucifer’s, though, like there has to be at least _some_ part of them that touches.

He looks down at their hands. “It has to do with whatever this is, doesn’t it?”

Lucifer gives his hand a squeeze. “Promise me first—please, Daniel.”

He’s right: Dan doesn’t like this. His gut tells him that Lucifer wouldn’t ask this of him unless he had a very good reason, though. He breathes in, exhales, and nods. “You have my word.” He hopes he’s not going to regret giving it.

Unexpectedly, Lucifer takes both of Dan’s hands in his own and tilts his head slightly so that they’re at eye level with one another. He looks directly at him, unwavering in his intensity. “Do you remember how I described the soul as a cord of steady light? What happens when it is affected by various sensations, and that prayer is stronger than all of them?” Dan just nods silently. Lucifer takes a deep breath. “Imagine if it was struck by another cord. What do you think would happen then?”

Dan’s heart feels heavy in his chest. It’s a little hard to breathe. He’s not going to freak out. He’s pretty sure, at least. The sound of his own voice surprises him, when it comes out calm and steady. “Just so we’re clear: you’re telling me that our _souls_ _touched_?”

Lucifer breaks into an uneasy smile, “A little more than touched, I’m afraid. I should have known that your psyche would get curious and be drawn to my energy like a moth to flame. Such is the nature of humans to the divine.” He reaches out and cups the side of Dan’s face with his palm, an earnest look in his dark eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t burn up.”

Dan thinks back to what he saw in his mind’s eye right before they both climaxed. It was a dizzying experience, but he knows he was trying to ‘swim’ towards something, though he had no idea what it was. He just felt he had to get closer.

Holy shit.

“I—,” Dan chokes up. “Did I—,” he can’t seem to get out the words. “What did I see?”

Lucifer swallows. “You saw me, as I really am—what I really am. And I saw you.”

A gasp escapes Dan’s lips. It’s still hard to breathe. He blinks rapidly a few times, tries to focus on grounding himself, to keep from drowning in a wave of shock. He sniffs, “So, um,” he clears his throat, “so, what does this mean?”

“Think fluid bonding, only far more spiritual and, well, permanent.”

His comment does its job and breaks the tension a little, making both of them laugh, albeit softly.

Gaining a bit of strength from that, Dan takes a moment to think. He rubs his thumbs over Lucifer’s hands lazily. It feels different—but in a good way. There’s a whisper of that strange gravity feeling again—like it’s easier to touch than it is to let go. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He looks up at Lucifer and asks him point blank, “How permanent?”

He hesitates, averts his gaze.

“Lucifer,” Dan says calmly, “How permanent?”

“In truth, I cannot say with complete certainty how permanent, because—congratulations—this is another first—which is also why I ask that you not tell anyone. Something this _unique_ needs to be kept between us until we understand it better. But, if we’re to assume that it works under the same principles that every soul is subject to, then…nothing short of a celestial weapon should break this.”

Dan is still for a moment before breaking into dry laughter, shaking his head. “I warned you we shouldn’t be messing with this shit.”

Flabbergasted, Lucifer frowns at him, “I don’t have the slightest idea why you think this is a laughing matter. If you’re that unhappy with this arrangement then I might as well—.”

“—shut up and kiss me, asshole,” Dan says.

Lucifer’s lips twitch into a smile, “If you insist,” he quips, and closes the space between them.

They press together, and the certainty/connection feeling that Dan gets from prayer seems to open up on its own, making them both draw in a breath sharply. He decides to experiment. He gathers up this new sensory experience, thinks about what it means to him, everything that it makes him feel, and shares it with Lucifer in an unfiltered burst of raw thought.

Lucifer shivers, his fingers clutch at Dan’s sides. His nails dig in and little crescents of bright pain prickle on his skin. Dan pushes forward, getting Lucifer to lie on his back. He settles on top of him, keeping their mouths locked together.

There’s a faint taste, a ghost of what it should be, but it’s there, where it hadn’t been before. Touch feels more real, too, and there’s a glimmer of what has become a familiar scent that wafts around him. It’s almost like Lucifer is really here, really with him, and he can’t get enough.

Before long, Dan finds himself in a delightful haze of sensation. He’s inside Lucifer, moving at an unhurried pace, drawing himself out almost all the way before sliding back in again to the hilt. Lucifer has one hand fisted in Dan’s hair; the other gripping his bicep like it’s a lifeline. He whimpers softly in the back of his throat.

Sand kicks up around them as they writhe together. Moans pass through lips. Muscles flex. They can’t stop tasting each other.

Dan is actually starting to feel some degree of strain and fatigue. It’s never happened before, but considering how the evening has gone, even though it’s a dream, he’s probably exerted himself past a reasonable point. He doesn’t want to stop.

The Devil’s hands wrap around the back of Dan’s neck and pull him close. He presses their foreheads together, breathing fast, shallow breaths. He’s trembling. “What have you done to me?”

Dan smiles, kisses him briefly, and replies, “Whatever it is you’ve done to me.” He slides his arms around Lucifer and holds him close. He thrusts faster.

Lucifer growls in the back of his throat. He moves his fingers up through Dan’s hair and grips tightly, rocking his hips in rhythm with Dan’s movements. He goes in hungrily for an open-mouthed kiss and bites, hard.

There’s actual pain for a brief moment, and it’s fucking perfect and invigorating. Dan hisses, his thrusts becoming blunt, hitting just the right spot. Lucifer tears his mouth away and groans. His body suddenly goes taut and arches up. He snarls Dan’s name loudly, coming against their stomachs in a brief, hot rush.

It’s enough to send Dan over the edge. He buries his face against the crook of Lucifer’s neck and exhales roughly, his body twitching as he comes in several bursts.

Holding on to Lucifer, Dan gingerly rolls them onto their sides, where they detach from the waist down. They work to catch their breath and steady themselves. It takes a little while.

When Dan’s breathing finally seems to return to normal, his body slams him with a massive wave of drowsiness. It feels like a sudden onset of jetlag. His senses start to dull. Everything begins to fade out. He shakes his head suddenly, “Damn it, I must really be exhausted.”

Lucifer smiles at him lazily, he looks drowsy too. “Well we did shag so hard our souls had orgasms. I’d say that warrants a fair bit of rest, wouldn’t you?”

Dan reaches up and touches the side of Lucifer’s jaw, strokes his thumb across the stubble there, enjoying the rough feel of it while he can. He blinks slowly. “I just don’t want this to go away. And I don’t know how I’m going to cope with tomorrow after all this. I wish I had more time to process it.” He thinks for a moment, and then decides to add, “I wish I had more time with you.”

“You will,” Lucifer says, smiling gently. Then he quips, “At least you only have to wait a single day. I, on the other hand, have to wait a dozen times longer than you!”

Dan laughs. “But you said two weeks is like nothing to you.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s better than your measly twenty-four hours,” He gripes. Lucifer leans forward and nuzzles their noses together. “Perhaps when your weekend starts, I could entice you to sleep in.”

That snaps a thought into Dan’s mind. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“The weekend—this is my weekend with Trixie, I pick her up tomorrow and have her until Monday morning.”

Lucifer shrugs. “All right, so then maybe sleeping in is off the table, but the urchin has you during the day. I only require you at your evening best.”

Dan looks at him apologetically. “I totally forgot, but I wanted to suggest that we take a break while I have her. After last night, thanks to what we did, I had to change out my sheets. I’ve never had an actual wet dream before.”

“Another first! We’re getting good at this, aren’t we? Maybe we should start a bingo. But why the break? Changing your sheets is a fairly benign thing; I can’t imagine your offspring would pick up on your nocturnal emissions—unless you were particularly vocal about it, perhaps.”

“Exactly! What if she hears me making sex noises or calling out your name? Chloe and I were always very careful to be quiet for exactly those reasons. I will _not_ subject my daughter to the details of my sex life—especially like that. This is why, I hate to say this, but I don’t think you should be around while she’s in my house. I’m sorry.”

Lucifer tries to roll onto his back. He has to work at it carefully, since neither of them is able to let go of one another very easily. Once he’s settled, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, huffing out a sigh.

Dan frowns. “Hey, c’mon, don’t get pouty on me.”

“Oh no, I’m not pouting about anything. You’re the one who’s making a mistake.”

“Me? I’m trying to be a responsible father right now.”

“Yes, you’ve made that quite clear.” He glances in Dan’s direction, twitches his mouth and upturns his chin. “But did it ever occur to you that we _don’t_ have to bugger each other into oblivion whenever we’re together? That we could spend time together doing other things?”

Dan opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and sighs, rolling on his back. Instinctively, his shoulder squishes up against Lucifer’s, so that he can still touch him. Lucifer’s thigh moves to rub up against him.

“That’s what I thought.” He lets out a long sigh through his nose and turns his head to look at Dan. “You should know: I completely respect your dedication. I may detest the little creatures, but I applaud any father willing to properly nurture his offspring—for reasons that should be obvious. What upsets me is that if all you associate with me is sex, then I’m not living up to my end of our bargain and I’m doing more harm than good.”

Shaking his head, Dan tries to protest, “I don’t only associate you with sex.” Lucifer gives him a look. “Ok, sure, it has a _lot_ to do with it. But—damn it,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s what makes this so difficult. We’re in my head, in my dreams. We’re sort of limited to what we can do, aren’t we?”

Lucifer narrows his eyes at him. “Have you no imagination to speak of? Strictly speaking, I can drop us anywhere you’d like. It’s simply easier for your mind to supply details if its places you’ve already been. Why do you think I met you in the café? It’s a place I know you’ve been because it’s where you get your truly bizarre lattes.”

Dan raises his voice. “That would have been good to know! Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?”

“You never asked,” Lucifer says sharply.

“Well you certainly didn’t volunteer!”

“Volunteering is for disaffected youth and lonely suburban housewives!”

Dan throws up his hands. “It’s about doing something selfless for someone else!”

Lucifer juts his index finger at him, _“Case. In. Bloody. Point!”_

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dan asks, loving and hating the fact that he’s so turned on right now. Why the hell does this get him going so much?

The Devil climbs on top of Dan, pinning him against the sand. Clearly, he’s not alone in the way he feels. “I’m _trying_ to have a relationship with you, Daniel, in order to help you become a better person, to become more selfless. It won’t work if you don’t meet me halfway.” He leans forward, brushes his lips against Dan’s mouth. “I have needs outside of carnal pleasures, too, you know.”

Despite himself, Dan massages one hand over Lucifer’s ass, runs the other up and down his spine. He chuckles and shakes his head, “Could have fooled me.”

“I may be fooling myself with how worked up you already have me. But my point still stands: we can do other things,” he kisses Dan, “outside of sex,” he grinds against his hips, “that allow us,” he groans, “to get to know each other better.”

Dan gives in and draws Lucifer into a long, deep kiss. He lets his hands explore casually over his body, enjoying the curves of muscles beneath his fingertips. It helps to satisfy him enough that he can focus. The downside to that is the drowsiness showing back up, swooping in to remind him that he really _is_ worn out.

He manages to slow them both down to a stop and he looks up at Lucifer thoughtfully, though his eyelids are already beginning to lower. “You’re right. You deserve more than what I’ve been giving you and I’m sorry I haven’t paid more attention to that. And thank you for respecting my concerns about Trixie; you know how important she is to me.”

Lucifer smiles at him and runs his hand through Dan’s hair. “I know. So, I leave it in your hands. I’ll leave you alone for the weekend. But if you change your mind, you know how you can reach me.” He leans forward for a kiss.

Dan sleepily kisses him back, mumbles, “Thank you,” and then sinks back into the dark quiet of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ on a cracker, what a chapter!
> 
> I hope your weekend is a good one. See you all next week, hopefully around Saturday/Sunday! I sleep now!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't tell you. Read the notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take your time reading this one. Something might look off at first, but it's intentional.  
> Mild TW maybe? There's mutual asphyxiation in this chapter. Very consensual though.

Dan and Lucifer are in his bed when he hears a knock at his front door. He goes to see who it is. Chloe is standing outside. “Chloe, what are you—.”

“Tell me it’s not true, Dan!” She demands, choking back a sob.

“What? I don’t under—.”

“—I overheard Maze talking to Linda. She said you and Lucifer were…”

Lucifer comes out of the bedroom. “Daniel? Who’s at the door?”

Chloe’s hand covers her mouth, muffling a gasp. Tears begin to fall as she looks back to Dan. “How could you?”

Lucifer looks at him sharply. “You didn’t tell her?”

Dan can’t seem to catch his breath. He looks back and forth at both of them. “I—I didn’t know what to do.” He turns to her. “Chloe, you have to believe me, I wanted to tell y—.”

_SMACK!_

She screams at him. “You went behind my back! How could you do that when you know how I feel about him?”

“No, it’s not like that. I was going to tell you. I just needed to—.”

“To what? Fuck me a few times to make sure you didn’t want me?”

Dan starts to tear up. He shakes his head. “No, that’s not true! I do want you—.”

“—and what about me?” Lucifer cuts in. “Have you been playing both of us?”

“Of course not! Everything just happened so fast between us—and now that we have this connection, I—.”

Chloe snaps, “I’m sorry—connection? I’m a miracle, Dan, I was _made_ for him! How could you be so selfish?” She sobs harder.

“I was trying to protect you! I never meant to hurt you.” He reaches out to her.

She takes a step back. “All you’ve done is hurt me. You don’t know how to do anything else.”

His heart is breaking. He falls to his knees. “Don’t…don’t say that. I love you, you _know_ that. I would do anything for you.”

“Then what am I? Chopped liver?” Lucifer sneers at Dan. “I’ve been trying so hard to please you and this is how you repay me? By lying to my face about your intentions? You haven’t changed at all, Daniel. You’re a groveling, pathetic excuse for a man. All you care about is yourself!”

“No!” Dan shouts, pleads. “That’s not true! Lucifer, you know it’s not true. I lo—.”

“Stop it—just, stop it!” Chloe yells. In a shuddering sigh, she asks, “Why, Dan? Why would you destroy what we have?”

Dan begins to sob. “I didn’t know what to do. You have to believe me! I didn’t know what to do! I’m sorry. Jesus, Chloe, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Chloe gives him a raw look. “Every time I think I can trust you…Every time I think you’ve changed…you just remind me that I made a mistake.” She sniffs, shaking her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He feels paralyzed. He can’t stop crying. “I never meant for any of this to happen!”

Lucifer glares at him icily. “Were _we_ never meant to happen, either, Daniel?”

“Lucifer…” Dan reaches out to him.

They both turn around and walk to the front door.

“No, don’t!” Dan cries out, his voice hoarse. “Stop! Please! I’m sorry! I can change! I promise! Don’t go! Don’t leave me!” He collapses forward, fists clenched, eyes burning. He roars, _“CHLOE! LUCIFER!”_

The door closes. There is no light. He whispers, “Don’t leave me…”

Dan and Lucifer are in his bed when he hears a knock at his front door. He goes to see who it is. It’s his ex-wife. Something feels off. “Chloe?”

“Tell me it’s not true, Dan!” She demands, choking back a sob.

“What’s going—?”

“—I overheard Maze talking to Linda. She said you and Lucifer were…”

Lucifer comes out of the bedroom. “Daniel? Who’s at the door?”

Chloe’s hand covers her mouth, muffling a gasp. Tears begin to fall as she looks back to Dan. “How could you?”

Lucifer looks at him sharply. “You didn’t tell her?”

Dan shakes his head. Before he can think it through, he blurts out, “I didn’t know what to do.” He turns to her. “Chloe, I—.”

_SMACK!_

She screams at him. “You went behind my back! How could you do that when you know how I feel about him?”

“I didn’t mean to. I was going to tell you. I just needed to—.”

“To what? Fuck me a few times to make sure you didn’t want me?”

Dan gapes, “I wouldn’t do that to you—.”

“—and what about me?” Lucifer cuts in. “Have you been playing both of us?”

“No! It all just happened so fast—now we have this connection, and I—.”

Chloe snaps, “I’m sorry—connection? I’m a miracle, Dan, I was _made_ for him! How could you be so selfish?” She sobs harder.

“What? That’s not fair. I would never hurt you.” He reaches out to her.

She takes a step back. “All you’ve done is hurt me. You don’t know how to do anything else.”

His heart is breaking. Something is so wrong with all of this but he feels helpless to stop it. He drops to his knees. “Don’t say that. You _know_ I love you. I would do anything for you.”

“Then what am I? Chopped liver?” Lucifer sneers at Dan. “I’ve been trying so hard to please you and this is how you repay me? By lying to my face about your intentions? You haven’t changed at all, Daniel. You’re a groveling, pathetic excuse for a man. All you care about is yourself!”

“That’s not true!” Dan fires back. “Lucifer, why are you doing this? I lo—.”

“Stop it—just, stop it!” Chloe yells. In a shuddering sigh, she asks, “Why, Dan? Why would you destroy what we have?”

Dan feels lost. His stomach is in knots. He whimpers, “I didn’t know what to do. I swear, Chloe, I didn’t know what to do! I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Chloe gives him a raw look. “Every time I think I can trust you…Every time I think you’ve changed…you just remind me that I made a mistake.” She sniffs, shaking her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He tries to stand. He can’t move. He starts sobbing. “I don’t know what’s going on. I never meant for any of this to happen!”

Lucifer glares at him icily. “Were _we_ never meant to happen, either, Daniel?”

“Lucifer…” Dan fights to get up, to reach out. It’s like he’s made of lead.

They both turn around and walk to the front door.

“Wait!” Dan cries out, his voice hoarse. “Stop! Please! I’m sorry! I can make this right! Don’t go! Don’t leave me!” His body slams against the floor onto his side. He’s in pain. So much pain. _“CHLOE! LUCIFER!”_

The door closes. There is no light. He whispers, “Don’t leave me…”

Dan and Lucifer are in his bed when he hears a knock at his front door. His gut tells him he shouldn’t answer it. Something makes him walk to the door. Chloe is standing there.

“Tell me it’s not true, Dan!” She demands, choking back a sob.

Suddenly, Lucifer, fully clothed, walks in behind her. “There you are, I—Chloe,” he says softly, taken aback.

She continues, “I overheard Maze talking to Linda. She said you and Lucifer were…”

Behind her, Lucifer frowns, “Maze is no gossip; she would never—.”

A nude Lucifer comes out of the bedroom. “Daniel? Who’s at the door?”

Chloe’s hand covers her mouth, muffling a gasp. Tears begin to fall as she looks back to Dan. “How could you?”

The Lucifer behind Chloe locks eyes with himself. “Oh, dear…this is bad.” He looks at Dan. “Daniel, look at me, darling.”

Dan starts to turn toward him.

The nude Lucifer snaps his attention away. “You didn’t tell her?”

Dan looks at both men in utter confusion. “I didn’t know how to tell her!” He turns to Chloe. “I can ex—.”

_SMACK!_

She screams at him. “You went behind my back! How could you do that when you know how I feel about him?”

Dan shakes his head, “I didn’t…”

“—and what about me?" The Lucifer beside him cuts in. “Have you been playing both of us?”

The clothed one holds up his finger, “Ah! That’s ridiculous. I am _not_ that petty! Daniel, I need you to focus. Look at me.”

“But,” Dan falters, he keeps looking back and forth. “It all happened so fast…when we connected—.”

Chloe snaps, “Connected? I’m a miracle, Dan, I was _made_ for him! How could you be so selfish?” She starts sobbing.

The Lucifer behind her rolls his eyes. “Oh, bloody hell! The Detective doesn’t know what she is and she would never say it like _that_ anyway.” He awkwardly moves around Chloe, trying not to look at her or touch her. He keeps his eyes trained on Dan. “Daniel, think carefully. Would your ex-wife really talk like this?”

Dan looks at both Lucifers. He finds himself drawn to the one wearing clothes. “No,” he says slowly. “She wouldn’t.”

She moves to grab Dan’s gaze again. “Why do you keep hurting me? It’s like you don’t know how to do anything else.”

“Don’t say that!” Dan shouts, unable to fight her pull. “You _know_ I love you. I would do anything for you.”

“Then what am I? Chopped liver?” The Lucifer beside him snarls.

“Oh, please! I’d never use such a trite idiom,” the other Lucifer scoffs.

The one beside Dan presses on. “You haven’t changed at all, Daniel. You’re a groveling, pathetic excuse for a man. All you care about is yourself!”

“Of all the—this is a bloody train wreck! Daniel, don’t listen to a word I say—I mean—.”

Dan sobs, “—Lucifer, why are you doing this? I lo—.”

“Stop it—just, stop it!” Chloe yells.

The clothed Lucifer groans, “Right. I was trying to do this gently, but I guess the band-aid approach will have to do. C’mon.” He slings an arm around Dan and starts dragging him to the door.

Dan struggles to get away. “No! I have to make this right! I didn’t know what to do. I swear, Chloe, I didn’t know what to do!”

The Lucifer holding him says, “Stop fighting me and concentrate, Daniel! _They’re not real._ They can only hurt you if you let them.”

Dan stares at Chloe with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She sniffs and chokes up. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The nude Lucifer frowns at him, “Perhaps you were a waste of my time after all.”

Dan continues to fight the arm wrapped over him as he watches Lucifer and Chloe get farther and farther away. “No! No! No! Stop! Wait! Please! I can make this right! Don’t go! Don’t leave me! _CHLOE! LUCIFER!”_

The door closes. There is no light. He whispers, “Don’t leave me…”

A voice beside his ear whispers back, “Never.”

~*~

Soft grass presses against Dan’s skin. Distantly, the sound of morning bird calls can be heard. Motes of dust and pollen drift in the sunlight. He’s lying on his side, beneath the shade of a large oak tree in the center of a meadow. Warm arms are wrapped over him securely, one around his waist, the other across his shoulder and chest. There’s a faint, but steady, magnetic feeling coursing through him that is stimulating yet soothing.

Dan lets his gaze wander through his surroundings. He gets the sense that he’s still in a dream. But he doesn’t recognize this place. And there’s a subtle glow at the furthest point of his vision, which seems to have more clarity than the blurred dimness that he’s used to.

In a quiet voice, he calls out, “Lucifer?”

“I’m here,” he replies gently.

“Where are we?”

“A dream version of a place where I’ve always felt safe.”

“It’s beautiful,” Dan says. He tries to think back to what happened, and immediately a violent shiver runs through him. He sucks in a gasp.

Lucifer brushes his lips to the back of Dan’s neck, “Shh, easy. We don’t want you slipping away again.”

Dan takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “What happened?”

“Another first, although for once, I wish it wasn’t possible.” Lucifer swallows and says carefully, “As it turns out, the…bond we forged is resilient enough that when I withdrew from your subconscious, your soul trailed behind me. By the time I realized what had happened, you’d been snatched up by the forces that govern the placement of all souls and you were thrust into your own Hell loop.”

“But I thought you ran the place? Can’t you control what happens?”

Lucifer draws in a breath through his nose and exhales softly. “In truth, I’m more like a warden that keeps subordinates in line and ensures the gates stay closed. Hell runs itself for the most part, and the process for every new soul that enters is instantaneous. It sorts the souls into their own private wing of punishment, and it manifests their guilt and magnifies it into everlasting torment.”

It takes Dan a little while to digest that information, and he’s quiet for a long time. Lucifer says nothing, just waits and gives him all the time he needs. When Dan is finally able to find his words, he asks reluctantly, “So that’s what will happen to me when I die?”

“If you died today, then yes. But it was only a glimpse into what _could_ be. You’ve been given a very rare opportunity, Daniel: the chance to make a change. This one’s not a first; however, someone else beat you to it.”

Dan thinks about that for a moment. “You mean Charlotte?”

“Yes. But she didn’t do it without the help of people who believed in her, and who loved her. I think you had a large part in making that happen.”

“Me?”

“I know she was afflicted by nightmares, and I know you were there for her when no one else was. You comforted her and listened when she needed it most. That takes a certain strength that not everyone is capable of.”

A tear escapes the corner of Dan’s eye and he sniffs. He lets out a shaky sigh. “I still miss her.”

Lucifer kisses his shoulder. “I do, too.”

~*~

They lie on the grass in peaceful silence for what seems like hours. Dan doesn’t drift back into deep sleep, doesn’t feel the need to do so, but doesn’t want to, either. He’s afraid of what would happen. He tries not to think about it. The serene environment and Lucifer’s arms around him help a lot. But he can’t shake his fear completely.

He continues to stare out ahead, admiring the sunlight as it blankets the meadow in a cheery glow. That’s when he notices for a second time that this doesn’t look or feel quite like his dreams. It compels him to ask, “Are we inside _your_ subconscious?”

“Took you a while to piece that one together.”

Dan smiles and shakes his head. “Give me a break, man; I’ve been through Hell.”

Lucifer nuzzles the crook of his shoulder, “I’m glad you can joke about it, at least for the time being.”

That makes Dan pause. “You’ve been waiting to talk about it, haven’t you?”

“I didn’t want to bring it up until you were ready.”

Dan rolls around to face him and frowns. “Wait, if we’re inside your subconscious, does that mean you’re asleep?”

Lucifer smiles at him and taps Dan’s nose with his index finger. “You forget so easily what I am. I rather like it. No, unlike you, my periods of rest and alertness are very different. I love sleeping, but I don’t necessarily have to do it in the way that humans do. As we speak, I’m still able to divide my attention between watching over Hell and cradling you in the back of my mind. It does take effort, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Carefully, Dan moves to sit with his knees drawn up. Detaching from Lucifer isn’t as difficult as it was before, but there’s still a distinct sense of fighting against a gravitational pull. It’s easier to deal with as long as some part of them is touching, which Lucifer makes sure to do when he mirrors Dan’s position while letting their feet brush against each other.

Dan hadn’t realized until now that the entire time they’ve been here, they’ve been naked. He’s not cold, and he’s grown used to being this way while they’re in these dreams because there’s no sense of inhibition about it. It just is.

He hugs his knees to his chest and suddenly finds it difficult to say anything. His gaze drifts back to the grass, bright green and pleasant-looking. He contemplates lying back down. Flicking his eyes up to Lucifer, he says, “How much of my…Hell loop did you see?”

Lucifer quirks an eyebrow at him, “Do you not remember?”

“No, I do, but…I dunno, it’s all messed up in my head—I don’t know what parts were real and what weren’t. There were two of you at one point, I remember that.”

“Could you tell us apart?”

“I think so. But it was like there was something preventing me from fully accepting that there was a difference? It’s hard to explain.”

Lucifer averts his gaze. “I’ve…been on the receiving end of that before. I know exactly what you mean.”

Dan wants to ask him more about that. But he’s learned that the Devil only gives freely what he’s not afraid to lose. If Lucifer didn’t elaborate, it’s probably best that Dan doesn’t pry any further. He keeps the conversation moving forward. “So how much did you see?”

Lucifer upturns his chin and gives Dan a strange look, like he’s doing mental math on an equation. Maybe it is like that. Dan waits; gulps.

When he does reply, he delicately slides his foot away, so that they’re no longer touching. There’s a subtle response from both of them when he does this, a slight physical jerk. Disconnected, is the first word that enters Dan’s mind.

“I saw enough. And, based on what I saw, I believe I know exactly how you can make good on your end of our deal.”

Immediately dreading the answer, Dan asks, “How?”

Lucifer stares at him blankly, giving no indication of how he feels about this, and Dan just knows he’s doing it on purpose. It’s probably why he withdrew from touching him, too. “You need to tell Chloe about us.”

Dan lets out a gentle sob he didn’t know he was holding back. He looks away, shaking his head, “Please don’t make me do that.”

Lucifer breathes in sharply and visibly bristles, like he’s working hard to contain his emotions. “All the more reason then that this needs to be the favor I choose. You promised me, Daniel. ‘Whatever it takes,’ you said. If you truly want to stop hating yourself, then this is what it takes.”

“You don’t get it. It doesn’t matter if what I saw in Hell was real or not—Chloe is going to be devastated, all right? She,” he looks away, wipes tears from his eyes. “Fuck.” He struggles to keep it together. “She already knows that someone was with me the other night—like _physically_ with me. If I tell her it was you…how do you think she’s going to take that? That you found a way to see me but you’ll still avoid her at all costs? Do you actually love her, Lucifer? Cause if this is how you show it, then you’re just as bad as me.”

Lucifer’s eyes blaze red. “It’s the only way I can keep her safe! Being down in this bloody pit of ash and suffering is the only way that I can keep _all_ of you safe! Had it not been for my brother’s help and the fact that you don’t affect my powers, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Dan feels a nervous twinge hit his stomach. He creases his brow. “But you already did, once.”

The Devil looks away. “That was only for a moment.”

“But you still did it. You were willing to risk it for me, but not for Chloe. I understand why, but she won’t. Even with the whole vulnerability thing, all she’s going to think about is how you chose me over her. Telling her the truth is just going to break her heart even more. I can’t do it, Lucifer. I can’t do that to her.”

“If you don’t, then you _will_ end up down here and I won’t be able to stop it. You will be trapped inside your own mind, forced to relive your worst moments of guilt for all eternity. And,” he pauses, reaching out with one of his hands to lace their fingers together. They both gasp when they touch. Lucifer closes his eyes. When he opens them, they’ve returned to their usual solid brown. “I’ll feel everything you feel.”

Despair riddles Dan’s expression. He runs his free hand over his face and then back and forth through his hair a few times. Eventually, it helps to settle his nerves and he lets his chin rest on his palm. He breathes in and exhales audibly through his nose. “Fuck.”

“If you think it would help,” Lucifer shrugs.

Dan’s gaze narrows on him for a second and then a bit of tension breaks and they both start to laugh. “That’s not what I meant. Anyway, I’m not sure it would.”

Lucifer smiles at him gently, “But making you laugh did, so I call that a win.”

That brings a light smirk to Dan’s lips. He leans forward to give Lucifer a kiss and is eagerly received. When they part, both of them have grown somber once more. Dan swallows. “What if she decides she can’t trust me? What if she takes Trixie away from me because of it?”

“Supposing this blows up in your face, and I’m not saying it will—but supposing it did—I don’t think the Detective would be so unwise as to ruin her daughter’s life over her own squabbles with you. That was how you were able to work out your divorce so amenably after all, wasn’t it?”

Dan snaps his head back in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“If I tell you, you’ll just be angry with me.”

“Well now you have to tell me, otherwise I’ll assume the worst.”

The corner of Lucifer’s mouth twitches into a smile. “I tried—unsuccessfully—to persuade the Detective to wring you dry. She refused, insisting that it wasn’t about money, just that you had grown apart. All she cared about was making sure the little urchin still had a father at the end of it.”

“She said that to you?”

“I believe her exact words were, ‘Dan may be an idiot, but he’s a good father.’”

Dan shakes his head and chuckles, though not like he’s happy. “You know,” he hesitates for a moment. He sniffs, his eyes are glassy. “I’m almost positive I’m going to destroy what I have with Chloe over this. And that hurts. It hurts so fucking much and it terrifies me. But…you’re right: she and I would do anything for our daughter.” He lets his gaze settle back on the landscape before them. “And I know we’ll do whatever it takes to give her the best life we can, even if that means we can’t do it together.”

Lucifer gives him a mildly perplexed expression, and then turns to look out at the field before them.

They don’t speak for a while. There’s still more to say but neither of them seems ready or able to say it. Despite the calm surroundings, an anxious feeling begins to take root.

Finally, Lucifer breaks the silence. “While it may be futile, I feel the need to remind you that the disgraceful version of me in your Hell loop was a complete fabrication and everything he said was untrue.”

“I know that,” Dan replies swiftly.

“Then what else is on your mind? You’ve been trying to crush my hand for the last ten minutes.”

Dan lets go and frowns. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.” He flexes his hand, it feels a little achy, but on account of the dream, the sensation fades very quickly. He looks away, feeling awkward.

Lucifer draws his attention and gives him an encouraging look. “It’s all right, Daniel. You can’t hurt me.”

That’s when Dan loses his cool and starts speaking rapidly. “That’s just it though. Why does Chloe make you vulnerable? I mean, is it _just_ because she’s a miracle? Or because she loves you? Or is it because you love her? _Do_ you love her?”

The Devil quirks up one of his eyebrows, “Are you jealous?”

“Answer the question,” Dan says firmly.

“Which one?”

_“Lucifer.”_

“What difference does it make?”

Dan buries his head in his hands and groans dramatically. He rubs his palms over his face. “You know what? Forget I asked.” Then he pauses and frowns. “No, I take that back. Let me try this again. Do you love Chloe, yes or no?”

Lucifer falters, “Well I—.”

 _“—Yes or no?”_ Dan insists.

“Yes!”

That makes Dan freeze for a moment. He takes a deep breath and continues. “Ok, good. Glad we got that out of the way. And you know what? Yeah, I am a little jealous. I can’t stop thinking about how I felt in the beginning when I thought I was just a rebound for both of you.”

Lucifer cants his head to the side curiously. “You still think you’re a side piece? Goodness, Daniel, you have to know that’s not true.”

“Do I?!” Dan exclaims. “I only know half the story, but I think it’s pretty clear that you guys have been in love with each other for a while. I don’t pretend to know why you never tried to make it work, but I know that she does something to you that no one else does.”

“The same can be said about you,” Lucifer points out.

“Maybe, but, your dad— _God_ —made sure that she could be born so that you two could meet. What if you’re destined to live a mortal life together or something?”

The flame-red color bursts back into Lucifer’s eyes and he lurches into a standing position. “I will _not_ be made a slave to my Father’s plans!”

Dan startles backwards and stands up too.

The Devil towers over him, snarling, “Don’t you see, Daniel? Chloe being made for me means her love isn’t genuine, it’s by design! And if I’m right about that, then my Father wins, and I will never be free of him!” He fumes angrily for a bit and then turns on his heels and takes a few steps away. He hugs himself, his shoulders heaving sharply.

Stupidly, Dan presses the point, though his voice comes out more confused than confident. “Then how else do you explain what you guys have?”

“Time,” Lucifer says from over his shoulder.

“What?”

He turns around. His eyes are normal again. His hand twitches, as if he wants to reach out to Dan, but he resists. “The Detective and I put a great deal of _time_ into our partnership. You think we never tried to make it work? Oh, believe me, we tried. And do you know what happened? Whether it was me, or her, or my family, or some other Dadforsaken crisis, _something_ always got in the way.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say to that. He feels like he was being unfair because he didn’t have all the facts. He had no idea that they made attempts to be together. Then again, they probably tried to keep it private—especially around him.

Lucifer takes a step towards him, the look in his eyes is cautious. “If experience has taught me anything, it’s that there is always a rhythm to be found between any number of people, regardless if it’s one-on-one or one-on-one-hundred.” He pauses to smile tentatively. “But that rhythm isn’t always intuitive. Sometimes it has to be practiced over and over. But you run the risk of tarnishing what you have if you force something that isn’t meant to be.

“When I first met the Detective, I was so mystified by what made her different that I threw out everything I knew about people and let myself be carried away. It wasn’t until I was trapped with my own thoughts for long enough that I realized why it never seemed to work out. We were forcing our rhythm to be something it wasn’t. It didn’t need more steps to make it better; it only needed to be celebrated for what it was. It’s our friendship, not a romantic partnership, which makes us strongest when we’re together.”

“What are you trying to say?” Dan asks softly. He wants to touch him, feels a magnetic pull beckoning him to close the distance. But he gets the sense that Lucifer is avoiding contact in order to focus, so he doesn’t move.

Lucifer takes another step and tilts his head slightly to look intently into Dan’s eyes. “I’m saying that what has taken the Detective and me four years to try and establish, unsuccessfully, has taken you and I just a matter of days to accomplish.”

“But that seems so unfair,” Dan says sadly. He keeps seeing Chloe’s tearful eyes from his Hell loop like the image is permanently burned into his mind. Maybe it is.

The Devil touches the side of his face and suddenly their bodies press together and they gasp. Lucifer exhales shakily and looks down at him with a grave expression. “And yet, here we are.”

Dan goes in for a frantic, hungered kiss. He wraps his arms around Lucifer. After a few minutes, he slows to a stop and presses their foreheads together. “How do you know I’m not just like her? What if we find out that I’m a miracle or I’m part of some prophecy or something?”

Lucifer hesitates for a second and then coils his arms around Dan snuggly. He nuzzles at his neck until his lips drift up to his earlobe, nibbling on it between his words. “I don’t. But I find it unlikely that my Father had any part in this. There are always patterns where he’s concerned. You, on the other hand…”

“I’m just full of surprises.” Dan says, biting at his throat.

Lucifer grinds against him, purring, “I’d like to fill you with something else.”

“How much time do we have?”

“All the time you want, darling. You’ve only been asleep for about thirty minutes.”

He pulls his head back to look at him. “Seriously? Then that means it’s been—what—six hours, your time?”

Lucifer grins at him, “Very good! How do you feel about making it another six?” He leans forward far enough to flick his tongue across Dan’s nipple several times.

“Oh, fuck!”

The Devil chuckles darkly in the back of his throat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” and sinks to his knees. He presses his lips to Dan’s stomach, teasing his way down.

Dan draws in his lower lip under his teeth and groans. And then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, didn’t you say it takes effort to make these dreams happen? This is the longest we’ve ever done this. Aren’t you tired?”

Lucifer licks his way across Dan’s waist and along his inner thighs, deliberately avoiding his stiffened cock. He shakes his head slowly, using the motion to guide his tongue. “It takes far less energy to have you here.”

“Then why don’t we do it more often?” Dan asks, breathing shallowly.

Lucifer flusters and stands up. He glowers at Dan. “You are, by far, the handsomest buzz-kill I’ve ever known.” He lets go of an irritable sigh. “While it’s easier for me to have you here, it’s better on your mind if I’m in yours. I was going to wait but since you’re so keen on ruining the mood: you’re going to feel dreadful tomorrow. Your soul has literally been through Hell and there’s no telling how your body will choose to manifest that.”

Dan holds out his hands. “Then why’d you bring me here? Why not take me straight back to my subconscious?”

“I feared the transition might damage you. This seemed like the logical halfway point. I was going to take you back when you felt ready.”

Looking Lucifer up and down, Dan realizes that between them, he’s the difficult one in the relationship, and somehow that seems terribly ironic. Lucifer’s been patient, understanding, wise, and nothing but giving. All Dan’s been doing is fearing the worst and making almost everything into an argument. It’s no wonder he and Chloe started falling apart.

With a long sigh, Dan pinches the bridge of his nose and then puts his hands on his hips. “I apologize for being such a handful since this whole thing started between us. You deserve better.”

Surprised, Lucifer blinks at him. “Thank you.”

Dan scratches the back of his head. He asks carefully, “Can you forgive me?”

Lucifer levels a predatory gaze on Dan and a sinful smile splays on his lips. His eyes flash red. “You can do better than that.”

For a second, Dan isn’t sure what he means.

Lucifer gives him a swift, questioning twitch with one thick eyebrow.

Awareness dawns on Dan and he steps forward to close the distance between them. As soon as he kisses Lucifer, the strange magnetic feeling draws their bodies against each other, making them both groan softly.

Dan reaches deep within his mind to find that space where he can gather everything he feels. He sends it straight to Lucifer; an outpouring of emotion that overwhelms both of them in a sudden, heady daze of sensation.

Lucifer grunts and his body spasms. He swiftly brings them both down to the ground and lies on his back, pushing Dan’s head down towards his groin.

Eager to please, Dan takes Lucifer’s dick into his mouth in one fluid movement, letting him push straight to the back of his throat.

The Devil rolls his hips fast but steady, keeping one hand fisted in Dan’s hair, much more securely than the last time. His head is lifted up, his eyes half-lidded, teeth clenched, chest heaving.

Dan flashes his blue gaze at him and their eyes lock. He holds his position while Lucifer thrusts into his mouth. He fucking loves it. He loves watching what it does to him. He loves the way it feels, even if it’s not the real thing. With their link fully open between them, Dan smothers Lucifer in a wash of gratitude and shared bliss. That’s when he gets an idea.

He listens as Lucifer’s breathing speeds up and watches as his body tenses, already getting close. Without giving it another thought, Dan slides one of his hands over the Devil’s chest and up to his throat.

Lucifer gasps between his teeth as Dan starts choking him. He returns the favor, pumping faster, filling Dan’s mouth and throat with as much of his cock as he can.

Dan’s breathing stifles and he exhales a high-pitched moan through his nose.

Between labored pants, Lucifer grits out, _“Harder.”_

Dan obliges, pressing firmly.

A strangled moan pushes out of Lucifer’s mouth and he shoves bluntly, his breathing hitching in his throat. He hisses quickly, “Don’t swallow!” and then he growls, arching his back as he spills into Dan’s mouth.

Dan has to pull back a little so that he doesn’t automatically swallow, instead letting it dribble past his lips, covering Lucifer in a opaque white slick. As soon as he eases off to catch his breath, Lucifer grabs him by the arms and pulls him forward.

He presses inside Dan easily and it causes both of them to shudder and close their eyes.

They stay like this for a long moment, basking in a shared sense of intimacy.

Gradually, Lucifer begins rocking his hips upward, but he doesn’t rush into it. Instead, he pulls Dan against his chest, drawing himself almost all the way out before plunging back in again, making Dan moan softly.

Dan kisses him. When he pulls back, Lucifer’s eyes are open, watching him intently. He starts to sink into the dark brown depths. They gaze at each other without hesitation, which only serves to intensify what they’re feeling.

Lucifer continues to move, but slowly, putting forth a degree of effort to keep his thrusts controlled and deep. One of his hands is cupping the side of Dan’s face, his thumb stroking his cheek.

Dan tilts his head down and nestles it beside Lucifer’s neck, breathing evenly. He feels incredible in ways he never even knew existed. He wonders absently if he’s really worthy of something as wonderful as this.

And that’s when his mind takes a violent turn.

Flashbacks from his time spent in Hell come rushing to remind him of all his faults, of all his guilt, everything that tells him that he doesn’t deserve any of what Lucifer has given him. _Selfish. Worthless. Toxic. A liar._

The accusations rend through his mind with such force that it makes his body go still in Lucifer’s embrace.

Seeking a way out of the torment, he looks inside himself to the current that binds them. He wants to ‘swim’ through it. He wants— _needs_ —to reach that brilliant, intangible point; hide inside it and never leave. It’s the only place that’s safe.

Before he can stop himself, Dan dives in, and with all of his strength, he prays for forgiveness.

Lucifer suddenly arches up against him, sucking in his breath. He holds on to Dan tightly, unable and unwilling to let go of him. He goes into a full-body shudder. When he finally stops, he softly begins to cry.

A strange, liquid sensation ripples through every fiber of Dan’s being. He can sense a voice, feel its timbre, and yet, there is no sound. It soothes him in a way that is all encompassing and absolute. It tells him that he is safe, that he is not alone; that he is loved.

“Daniel,” Lucifer whispers.

Actually hearing sound draws Dan out of his head and he gasps when he realizes that their bodies are still moving together. They’re both sweating. Lucifer’s face is flushed.

They look into each other’s eyes once more. Nothing is said but everything is laid bare. There’s something different about Lucifer that Dan’s never seen before. He looks younger, or softer—gentler, maybe. Dan can’t seem to decide what he sees, but it fills him with wonder all the same.

Lucifer’s breathing is fast and his body is starting to tense again. He slips one hand over the back of Dan’s head, threading his fingers through his hair. He pulls their faces together for a kiss and doesn’t let go.

A warm force builds in Dan’s core. His skin feels like its being bathed in light. The soundless voice continues to fill him with assurances of protection and companionship. His heart is pounding in his chest.

And then it hits them both: a powerful surge breaches the surface of Dan’s mind and body, pulsing outward and a strained cry tears from his lips.

Lucifer arcs his back with a moan. He sinks down and exhales with a melodic sigh, his hands going slack over Dan’s shoulders.

~*~

After some time, they let the dream relax and reposition their bodies.

They lay side by side, Dan resting his head against Lucifer’s chest, one arm draped over his stomach. Lucifer has a protective arm across his shoulders while his other hand is absently stroking Dan’s fingers where they rest over his abdomen.

Dan feels fuzzy-prickly all over, like his entire body is waking from being asleep the way his foot falls asleep sometimes when he’s at his desk. It’s not an unwelcome feeling exactly, but it’s a foreign sensation that’s hard to make sense of.

He can also tell that he’s nearing total exhaustion (again), and will have to leave soon. He’s not ready. And he wants to talk about what just happened. He clears his throat. “Was that another first?”

“Yes,” Lucifer says, his voice strangely deep but gentle.

Dan looks at him. Lucifer still has that peculiar appearance that he noticed earlier, and he still can’t figure out what exactly is different about him. His eyes are closed, the corners of his lips are delicately upturned so that he’s almost smiling, but it’s very subtle. Dan frowns. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” he replies, virtually identical in every way to his last response.

Dan props up on his elbow and flicks his thumb and forefinger against one of Lucifer’s ribs.

Lucifer chuckles in the back of his throat but otherwise doesn’t react, keeping his eyes closed.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes,” he repeats perfectly.

“Will you please look at me?”

Lucifer opens his eyes and turns his head slowly to face him. His subtle smile is still plastered on his face; he looks the very picture of relaxed and content.

Dan’s brow dips into a ‘v’ shape. “What happened this time?”

“I answered your prayers,” he says lightly, like it’s the most innocent thing in the world. It’s almost cute. No, in fact, it’s endearing. And weird.

Taking a moment to think, Dan can still sense the gravity-like pull between them, it hasn’t diminished or increased, it just remains steady and in the background—as long as they keep touching each other.

He looks inside himself and feels…good. Really good, in fact. It’s like pain he didn’t even realize he’d grown used to, living with it his whole life, is suddenly just…gone.

He also feels worn out and still kind of fuzzy-prickly, but none of that seems like a bad thing. Lucifer’s behavior seems odd, though. Dan reaches out and touches his face.

Lucifer closes his eyes again and breathes deep. He exhales a pleasant sigh and nuzzles into his hand affectionately.

Dan thinks about what Lucifer said and tries to figure out what’s so different about him when suddenly, it all clicks into place.

 _I answered your prayers_.

“Lucifer?”

He opens his eyes. “Yes, Daniel?”

“What does it mean when you answer someone’s prayers?”

“It means that I have blessed them,” he says simply, his tone perfectly consistent with every word he’s spoken since the conversation started. He still has the subtle smile on his lips.

Dan takes a moment to just stare at him, and then breaks into soft laughter. “Man, you are _high_.”

“Yes,” he replies, just the same as before.

Continuing to take in his unusual state, Dan smirks. “I’m surprised you didn’t sprout wings, too.”

“Would you like to see them?”

The smile drops from his face. His eyes widen. He recalls when they were undercover and went to the men’s bathhouse. Dan noticed the scars on his back. At the time he didn’t know what to make of them, though he genuinely found himself curious about them.

He thinks about how, since they’ve been close, that the scar tissue is gone. Somehow, he’d forgotten about what he saw and hadn’t made a connection until just now.

He gulps and nods silently.

Standing up, Lucifer takes several steps forward into the meadow. He looks left and right and then turns around to face Dan. With a twitch of his shoulders, he spreads out a pair of giant, luminous white wings.

Dan’s jaw drops. He slowly rises into a standing position, arrested with awe. When he first saw Amenadiel’s wings, it was a shock. But because they were steel gray in color, and it was nighttime, there was a muted feeling about them that is very different from what he sees now.

Even in the sunlight, he feels like they have a glow to them, and somehow, despite being so bright, they don’t blind him. They simply radiate elegance and instill wonder. They look soft, but not fragile; durable, but supple.

Lucifer is beaming, looking truly happy in a way Dan’s never thought possible. He’s not sure if he’s unnerved by it or he’s so overwhelmed with admiration that he just doesn’t know how to process everything he sees.

He approaches Lucifer warily. When he’s within arm’s reach, he looks from one wing to the other and then to the man in between.

No, not a man…an _angel_.

Dan has never seen this side of him; only the charred, red skin and the glowing eyes. That, combined with his usual demeanor and human appearance, made it easy to forget that Lucifer was always an angel first, before he became the Devil.

He struggles to understand why Lucifer’s kept this part of him hidden, when it is so beautiful that he feels like he can barely comprehend the immensity of what it means. He can feel tears on his cheeks and he hadn’t even realized he’d shed them.

He tries thinking more critically. Lucifer’s angel side is a reminder of his father and everything he stands for. It represents his old life, the one where he was cast out for speaking his mind. There’s a reason this is a rare thing to behold.

He considers if Lucifer answering his prayers—blessing him—is something he’s actually proud of, or if he’ll come to resent it, because it appeals to a part of him that he despises.

Dan doesn’t want that to happen. He feels more at peace with himself than he ever has before, and he feels more connected to Lucifer than any person he’s ever known, even his ex-wife, or his daughter.

He’s afraid to shake him from this spell. The look on his face seems so pure and full of joy, and Dan helped to make that happen. But deep down, he knows that if Lucifer got brainwashed by his own angelic traits, against his will, he’d want Dan to wake him the fuck up.

He’ll do it. But first, there’s something he wants to do before he might lose the opportunity forever.

The entire time Dan’s been thinking things over, he’s just been looking at the wings, taking them in, admiring them. Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind, seems more than patient enough to let him stare for as long as he likes.

Licking his lower lip, Dan furrows his brow and looks him in the eyes nervously.

Before he can ask, Lucifer offers, “Would you like to feel them?”

Dan lets out a shaky sigh and nods.

He starts to reach out when suddenly, the wings _whoosh_ gently and wrap around to bring him closer. They’re soft but somehow firm and smooth, and delightfully cooler in temperature than the rest of Lucifer’s body.

But as soon as their skin touches one another, the magnetic connection pulls them against each other, forcing both men to gasp.

It’s enough to snap Lucifer out of his angelic haze. All at once, fear and confusion flash in his eyes and Dan is quick to stop him from panicking and presses their lips together. He has a moment where he thinks he could open up and pray to him, show him the awe that he feels, but he resists the urge. It could backfire if Lucifer’s panicked right now.

Instead, Dan doesn’t focus on anything other than the lips touching his and how that makes him feel. He carefully places his hands on Lucifer’s waist, then slides them around his back and holds him.

Ultimately, it works, and Lucifer’s body eases from its tense posture. There’s a louder _whoosh_ and the wings fold back into wherever they hide (how that’s even possible is a question for Dan to think about later).

Lucifer embraces him. He holds Dan for a moment in silence and then leans away to look at him questioningly. “Why did you ask me for forgiveness?”

“Don’t you remember?” Dan asks, mirroring his expression.

He shakes his head, “It’s not that I don’t remember. But you didn’t tell me what it was for. I only felt your pain, so I gave you what I thought would help most.”

Dan doesn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, he thinks about this moment, and all of the others they’ve experienced, and what it all means. He says, “I’m sorry I did that to you. I know you’re not comfortable with that part of yourself, and what it represents. And if I’d known that’s what would happen, I wouldn’t have done it. I never want you to be anyone but who _you_ want to be.” He breathes in and exhales with a shudder. “I love you, Lucifer, just as you are.”

Lucifer huffs and blinks at him with glassy eyes. He moves his hands up to hold Dan’s face in his palms. “I don’t know anyone who would be so selfless, so strong, and so unbelievably stupid that they would give up a divine healing of their soul, in favor of encouraging a handsome, reckless, narcissist to never stop being himself, quite like you would, Daniel—and I love you all the more for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another intense one, and damn it, the longest chapter thus far. Sorry if you weren't ready for that, or anything else I threw at you. I hope you're all still enjoying this as much as I am.  
> Thank you for being on this journey with me. Have a safe weekend. Until next time!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serious talk time. Plus work on the case. And more talk time.
> 
> *Graphic description of a corpse in this chapter*

It’s a quarter after six in the morning when Dan finally wakes up enough to shut off his alarm, which had been set for six. He doesn’t remember snoozing it. He blinks blearily and sits up, only to wince and lay back down with a groan.

His sheets are clinging to his whole body, damp with what appears to be a _lot_ of sweat. He feels extremely dehydrated to the point that he has a splitting headache. His muscles are stiff and his joints feel achy. It’s like a hangover while also having the flu.

Dan considers if doing his morning workout would be a good idea or not. He still feels a little groggy so there’s only one way to find out. After chugging a bunch of water and getting into position on his floor, he’s immediately overcome with a wave of dizziness. He stops before he even gets started on the first push-up. Nope, not today.

He throws his sheets in the washing machine (for the second time this week), and drags his feet to the shower. He doesn’t even turn the temperature up that high. Water feels good, soothing in a way like nothing else is. Damn, he’s overdue for a real visit to the ocean. He wonders if he could ever get Lucifer on a board.

A light smile gradually turns into a full blown grin as he thinks about him. He feels happy in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s not quite a magic cure-all, but it does make him feel a little better physically. It diverts his attention from how wrecked he feels, at least.

He thinks about how fast everything has happened between them, how it’s barely been a week since this whole thing started. But that’s just for him; for Lucifer, it’s been about two and a half months. And in between that, with the way time seems to move in the dreams, it feels like it’s been years, or sometimes just hours.

It’s been a little hard to separate his unconscious time spent with Lucifer and his waking moments during the day. It’s like his mind is constantly trying to play catch up and answer questions to problems in a language it doesn’t know. It feels disorienting and it messes with him more than he wants to admit.

He hasn’t had any trouble hiding it around others, thanks to having a schedule (and his cell phone), but on the inside, Dan’s been working very hard at not losing his grip on his internal clock. He should probably start wearing a watch, just to have a little extra support.

He smirks and shakes his head while he lathers himself up in the shower. His life has become so bizarre. And yet, he’s kind of impressed with how well he’s settled into it. For the most part, everything has just clicked and aligned naturally. He really does seem to fall fast and hard when his heart is open to it.

Thoughts of Chloe drift into his mind.

He thinks about when they first met. He remembers their first date, their first kiss; the time he surprised her with a home-cooked Italian dinner that took him a week to perfect, and then proposed by topping the gelato he made from scratch with the ring. He remembers how her face lit up at the sight of it.

He recalls how they celebrated over finding out she was pregnant. They were both so excited that they couldn’t sleep and stayed up all night making plans and making love. He’s reminded of every time he made her laugh, and every time he’s made her cry.

Even in the shower, his eyes sting.

~*~

As he finishes the rest of his morning before his Uber shows up (he’s so fucking glad he scheduled it last night), Dan thinks about what he needs to do.

Regardless if he’s feeling like shit, he knows he has to tell Chloe as soon as possible. Preferably before he takes Trixie for the weekend, if that will even be an option after he says what he needs to say. Lucifer is probably right: Chloe wouldn’t want to disrupt things for Trixie unless she absolutely had to.

Still, Dan thinks it’s not completely unreasonable to prepare for the worst, because he really doesn’t know what will happen. He’d rather be surprised and relieved than horribly let down.

But the longer he’s conscious, the more the urgency of telling her eats at him, gnawing incessantly at his patience. Somewhere in his mind, he feels more than thinks of his time in Hell. There is a distant, high-pitched whining sound that persists like an undercurrent to his thoughts. It’s coupled with a tugging sense of agony that is trying to weigh him down. He wonders if this is what it was like for Charlotte when she came back.

However, in the weirdest way, he feels able to keep all of these awful sensations tucked to the side. He can’t make them go away, but he can section them off while he concentrates on better things.

Something happened when Lucifer answered his prayers. It feels like confidence, if confidence were a physical thing he could wear. Despite the way his body feels, despite the nagging threats from Hell in the back of his mind, he isn’t afraid to get through the day, no matter what happens. Whether it’s going to end in ice cream and fast food with his daughter or alone with tears and wall punches is anyone’s guess. But he feels ready for it, and right now, he’s grateful for that.

He stuffs the last of his breakfast (a hefty omelet with cheese, tomatoes and spinach) into his mouth, checks his pockets for all his things, and heads outside just as his ride pulls up.

~*~

Dan’s shift starts a few hours before Chloe’s does, so he has some time to at least center himself by focusing on paperwork. Unfortunately, it does little to calm his nerves since he can’t seem to stop watching the clock.

He catches sight of Zach heading out of Records with a stack of files in his hands. They make eye contact and the lieutenant gives him a knowing nod and a smirk and heads on up to his office. Dan is both grateful that Zach is being subtle and that he actually appears to be taking an interest in what they spoke about last night.

Casually, he wonders if that was a one-time thing or if it would be weird to ask the lieutenant if he wanted to hang out again. They got along really well, but Dan isn’t sure if that’s solely thanks to the fact that he also had a good buzz going on at the time. Something to think about later.

Finding himself at war with his concentration over paperwork, Dan decides to switch gears. He heads into the conference room Chloe used to set up their whiteboard for the not-serial killer case. Fortunately, no one else has used it since last night, so everything is still in the room.

He rearranges some of the photos and starts poring over everything they have so far. There’s something bothering him about the first case they came across regarding the security guard, Diego Cortez. Even though he knows he can’t be certain until they have more information, he thinks about the level of effort the killer put into both murders.

James McMillan was killed expressly for the purpose to knock him out of the suspect list. Diego Cortez was the main focus, but why? Why him? Why there? Dan considers that if they really are dealing with a serial killer, who’s to say that there aren’t more murders that have already happened that either haven’t been established as a connection or haven’t been found yet?

It’s an unsettling thought, to put it mildly. But it’s also a good angle to explore.

He hops on a computer terminal in the room to check other homicides that have occurred in the area recently and starts looking for comparisons.

After about an hour of being absorbed in jotting down notes, Chloe surprises him when she walks inside. “Hey, there you are,” she smiles at him.

He manages to smile back. “Hey.”

She eyes the computer and immediately shifts into work mode, walking up to lean behind him. “What’s up, did you figure something out?”

He keeps his eyes on the screen and points with his pen. “It’s a bit of a long shot but what if Cortez’s murder wasn’t the first one our killer started with? What if we didn’t catch this at the beginning?”

“So you’re checking against other active cases.”

“Mm-hmm. Nothing really matches so far but I’m building up a set of cross-references that we could go over, maybe you could see if there’s something I’m not seeing.”

“This is really great work, Dan,” she says, squeezing his shoulder affectionately.

He flashes Chloe a quick smile and then points to a stack of notes. “Thanks. That’s about a dozen open cases I’ve gone through already, with all the similarities I thought might be worth looking at, if you want to check them out. I can keep going through more, see if I find anything.”

She seems a little surprised by his diligence but nods and says, “Yeah, I’ll get right on it.”

~*~

After about twenty minutes of silence, Chloe suddenly asks, “So, how did your not-date with _Zach_ go?”

Dan huffs a laugh. “Fine—and it really wasn’t what you think. He asked me for suggestions on how to make the precinct better and I told him what I thought was important to focus on.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Huh,” she says, clearly mystified.

He smirks but doesn’t turn around. He tries to concentrate on what’s in front of him, but it’s starting to get difficult. He has to talk to her. He doesn’t know how to start.

Another five minutes or so pass and then, “You ok?”

He hesitates for a second, “Yeah, why?”

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the past five minutes. Also, you seem really quiet today. You sure this doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”

Could her question be more loaded?

Dan taps his pen against the edge of the keyboard and then sighs. He turns around, glances to his right to make sure no one’s looking in their direction, and then leans forward in his chair, clasping his hands together. “All right, yeah, it does, but not in the way that you think.”

She sets down the paper she was looking at and gives him a calculating stare. “What’s going on?”

He groans and rubs his face with his hands. “Shit. I’m really sorry, this isn’t where we should be having this conversation but I have to get something off of my chest.”

Chloe furrows her brow and crosses her arms. It’s a defensive posture, but also a speculative one when it comes to her. She’s currently more curious than she is upset. Dan’s sure that’s about to change real quick.

She gives him a nod with a bit of a shrug, “Ok.”

Dan blows out a sigh, rubs his hands together for a moment and then holds them out. “I know the truth—about Lucifer. I know he’s _actually_ the Devil, that it’s not just some gimmick. I know about Maze and Amenadiel, too.”

The revelation changes her tune immediately and she gapes at him. “Wh—how? When?”

“I only found out a week ago. As for the how…” He raises his eyebrows, not sure how to really explain.

“Wait, a week ago—you mean, after you asked me about him?”

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

He doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know that he’s blushing right now and has the biggest guilty look on his face.

Chloe narrows her gaze and asks slowly, “Dan, what happened?”

His eyes dart to the side and he blinks. When he looks back at her, he knows this is all about to go up in flames.

He draws in a deep breath, and then exhales. “I didn’t know you knew the truth until a few days ago, and by then things got really complicated and I,” he groans, cursing under his breath, “I was afraid of how much it would hurt you if you found out.”

“If I found out what—?”

“—if you found out that Lucifer and I are dating!”

She blinks at him and pulls her head back. “I’m sorry—dating _?_ Like, _dating,_ dating? How is that even possible? And why y—?”

Chloe’s cell phone rings.

She automatically flashes an apologetic look and answers the phone. “Decker,” she replies, sounding less choked up than she appears.

As she listens, and Dan waits, a look comes over her face. He knows that look. He starts to stand, so does she.

“Thanks, we’re on our way.” Chloe slips the phone back in her pocket and walks to the door. “Sounds like it might be our killer.”

Dan grabs his jacket. “Perfect fucking timing.”

~*~

They head down to the garage and share an awkward moment where they silently debate whether or not they should take separate cars. At the last second, Chloe makes the decision for them and they take his car.

When he turns on the ignition, he wonders if she wants him driving so she can focus on questioning him. She’s done it before. Dan’s fine with it, if that’s the case. It means she wants to keep talking about this. The crime scene is about twenty-five minutes away, so at least they have a little bit of time.

But Chloe remains quiet for several minutes, and with each one that passes, Dan grows more and more nervous. He focuses on the road, doing everything he can to stay calm and not start sobbing apologies. She doesn’t need that right now.

When she finally does break the silence, it’s exactly where Dan thought she would start the conversation. “Was he the one who left the pillow dent I saw when we showered at your place?”

Dan keeps his eyes straight ahead. “Yeah. He asked Amenadiel to watch over Hell while he was gone. And before you ask—he was willing to see me but not you because of the way you affect him—physically, I mean.”

She nods slowly, taking that in.

He feels compelled to add, “He doesn’t talk about it much, but I think he’s afraid that if word gets out about that, he’d end up with another uprising on his hands with no way to stop it.”

Chloe nods again, lips tight, her gaze looking ahead.

Time passes. No one speaks. It makes Dan nervous.

He gives in. “I thought you’d be way more upset about me and Lucifer—.”

“—Oh, I am _beyond_ upset right now,” she fires back. “And not about you and Lucifer—wait, no, I take that back. Yeah, it hurts knowing that he chose you over me, Dan, like, _a lot_. But—,” she stops herself and stares at him, hurt and confusion filling her eyes. “You lied to me.”

He winces, “Chloe, I—.”

“ _Again!”_ she snaps. She shakes her head in disbelief and looks way, staring out her window.

Dan wants to tell her how sorry he is. He’s not sure it would even matter at this point. He remains quiet. His stomach twists in knots.

After a few minutes, Chloe says, “You know, every time I thought there was a thing developing between us, something always came up. He got scared, or I got scared. It was like we were taking turns. I won’t pretend I even remotely understand how it happened between you two so fast when he and I could never make it work in four years. But I accept it.” She turns her head to look at him. “What I don’t accept is that you and I had a life together, had a child together, and somehow, after everything else that’s happened between us, you still don’t trust me enough to feel like you can be honest with me. I just want to know why.”

Dan wishes they weren’t on their way to a goddamn crime scene right now. He wishes he could hold her and sob against her chest and apologize even if it doesn’t matter, just so that she knows how much he’s affected by this moment.

He thinks about everything he could say. All of it sounds fake or like a broken record. He doesn’t think it would matter if he wants to say he’s sorry, that he wasn’t thinking, that he was trying to protect her or that he was going to tell her ‘when the time was right.’ It all just sounds like bullshit.

He takes a look inside himself and decides to be as transparent as he can.

“I’ve always felt the need to protect you, even when that means lying to you, because I was afraid that if I couldn’t handle a problem on my own, then it meant I wasn’t good enough. Not good enough for you, or for Trixie; for anyone. But I realize now that you never needed protecting. You needed someone who was willing to look past their own bullshit and trust that you were strong enough to be your own person. I’m sorry I fucked that up and I know I can’t take it back. But what I can do is spend the rest of my life proving to you that there is nothing in this world that is more important to me than you and Trixie. You’re my family. Nothing should ever come between us—especially my own issues. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to recognize that.”

Dan glances at her; she’s looking ahead again, wearing a cool mask of indifference, although her eyes are wet.

They say nothing the rest of the drive.

~*~

In a small, rundown business district, one side of a city block has been taped off. The primary focus for the LAPD centers on an abandoned shop that has a boarded up door and a storefront with three mannequins in the window—one of which happens to be the victim.

It’s a young woman, somewhere in her twenties, with shoulder length, curly dark hair. Her skin is different shades of green and purple, hanging unnaturally on her limbs like she’s wearing a bodysuit that’s too long. She’s bloated, but it doesn’t look as extreme as it should, which suggests that she was probably very thin when she was alive.

She’s on a weighted metal stand; a thin bar of steel normally used to prop up displays is staked through her back from the center and up to her neck, keeping her upright. She’s wearing a large, flowing black dress which obscures a good portion of the bloating.

Just by looking at the state the body is in, Dan and Chloe aren’t surprised when a uni hands them some face masks before they approach the front entrance. About five feet before they get there, the smell is already nauseating.

Once inside, the stench of human waste and rot, even through the masks, hits both of them like a physical force. Dan’s eyes start to water, so do Chloe’s. At least no one will think twice about why their eyes are already red.

He’s glad that while he still feels like shit from what he went through last night, it’s not affecting his ability to do his job, and the horrendous smell isn’t turning his nausea into anything he can’t handle. Small miracles.

Ella, also masked up, is snapping photos when she looks up and sees them. “Hey guys!”

“Hey, Ella,” Dan muffles from behind his mask. “What do we got?”

“Meet Tara Simmons, twenty-three, homeless. Database came back with a few priors—one for petty theft and a couple for prostitution.” She shakes her head as she looks at the body, “Tough break.”

“When I got the call, they made it sound like this case could be connected to our killer,” Chloe mentions.

Ella nods. “I can’t make it official yet, but check this out.” She gets in close to the corpse and tilts the head to the side, revealing a needle mark in the back of the neck. “Even with the bloating, this looks like the same dart wound that Diego Cortez got. Still gotta run a tox screen to see what she was loaded with, but as far as I can tell she has no other marks recent or old, so she wasn’t a user.”

“Cause of Death?” Chloe asks.

“Cervical fracture, just like our deceased security guard. That serial killer angle is looking pretty damn plausible right about now. If we find out she was injected with heroin like the last guy, I’d say it’s a done deal.”

Dan shakes his head. “Fucking great.” He narrows his gaze as he looks at the body. “How long has she been dead? Two weeks, maybe?”

Ms. Lopez points a gloved finger at him, “Close! She’s still in the bloat stage and active decay hasn’t started yet. Taking that into account and judging by the maggots and the mold mouth—trust me, not a pretty sight—I’d put her death somewhere around eleven, _maybe_ twelve days ago.”

Dan and Chloe look at each other and then back to the forensic scientist. Dan suggests, “So, you’re saying it could have been on a Monday?”

“Yep, exactly one week before Cortez. I think the only reason we didn’t find her first was because this part of town doesn’t see a lot of foot traffic, and without getting right up to the glass, she blended right in with the rest of the window décor. Talk about a bad, ‘one of these things is not like the other’ find.”

“Who found her?” Chloe asks.

Ella nods outside the window toward a woman who’s holding a trash bag in front of her, looking wide-eyed and pale, and wearing a skimpy gold top and pink skirt. “This was our homegirl’s turf, but she was on good terms with the other ladies in the biz. Some of them check in on each other every so often. Guess it wasn’t often enough.”

Chloe turns to Dan and says, “You finish up here, I’ll go see if I can talk to her.”

“Yeah, you got it,” he replies with a nod.

Before making it to the doorway, Chloe stops and turns on her heels. “Hey, Ella?”

Ms. Lopez whirls around from where she was taking a hair sample from the victim. “What up?”

“Dan’s got Trixie this weekend and, well, I was wondering, are you busy tonight?”

“Dude, you _read_ my mind! We’re so overdue for a tribe night and I am jonesing to get a little wild with my crew!”

“Oh, ok, great. I mean, I hadn’t really thought about anything beyond a few drinks but—.”

“—Decker, don’t fret, I am the official tribe coordinator, remember?”

“I was probably hammered when that decision was made,” Chloe points out, laughing a little.

Ella waves a hand dismissively. “You get back to work, I’ll handle the deets.”

“Thanks, Ella!” Chloe says over her shoulder as she heads out.

“Ain’t no thang!” she calls back.

Dan is grateful that no one can see him silently mouthing his ‘thanks’ beneath his face mask.

Chloe is probably still super pissed at him (with good reason), but at least he got confirmation that he gets to spend time with his daughter for the next few days. He doesn’t know if this is going to end up being the last time, considering that he anticipates he and his ex-wife will definitely discuss details.

But that will be later. Right now, he sets himself to task with analyzing the scene.

He lets his eyes survey the abandoned store and the display window. There really isn’t much inside the building. Some graffiti on the walls, spray cans, busted shelving, wires sticking out of the ceiling, lots of small trash debris that probably blew in from the poorly put together boarded up door, and the other two mannequins in the window. One is on its side, with built-in blonde hair, wrapped up in old phone cables and is covered in dust. The other one is upright on a post, like the victim, has black hair, and a dirty blue, sun-faded sweater, also covered in dust.

Dan asks Ella, “Was Simmons found upright in the window just like that?”

“Yep, right between Betty and Veronica.”

“Betty and Veronica? Like the Archie comics?”

Ella points at each of the figures, “Betty has blonde hair, Veronica has black hair, duh.” Dan blinks at her. She shrugs, “What, it helps me with my notes. Anyway, to answer the question you _didn’t_ ask but the one you totally _should_ have asked—Tara Simmons is not only between Betty and Veronica, she’s exactly twenty-eight inches in front of them and three inches to the left.”

He looks at her in puzzlement. “Why is that important?

“It’s daytime right now, but check it,” she points out the window to a streetlamp on the curb. “At night, the strongest part of that light would be directly cast over our vic.”

“Making her not only on display but highlighted. Shit.”

“Mm-hmm,” Ella agrees with a slow nod.

He lets his gaze drift around this side of the block. There’s two more condemned buildings, a fenced off empty lot, another abandoned storefront, and a convenience store on the far corner that is functional. Ella’s right, foot traffic here is minimal.

Dan frowns, “It’s about display but not necessarily about attention.”

“Right?” Ms. Lopez chimes in. “I was thinking that too. Simmons could have been seen by lots of people but only one person looked long enough to notice something was out of place. Cortez was found and seen by only his coworker, and McMillan was found by us.”

“Exactly. I think these murders are being displayed specifically for the LAPD. They’re conveying some kind of message; I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“It’s one hell of a message.”

He furrows his brow at that comment, “Yeah…yeah, it is.” He licks his lip in thought and then moves on. He looks at her, “Anything else you can tell me?”

“The back door was busted to get inside, but there’s no way to tell if it was the murderer or someone just looking to hide out or scavenge for junk. Haven’t found anything in the carpet, which makes it seem like our killer can either float or they’re just _that_ good at cleaning their shoes. But, it gave me an idea: disposable painter’s clothes— _with_ booties.”

Dan huffs, “Would that really work?”

Ella shrugs, “It has so far. I mean, it would explain the lack of footprints and wearing one of those suits would definitely cut down on leaving hair or cloth fibers.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help that the murder weapons are sourced from the crime scene every time, too. I know we can’t prove that ‘body web’ that Cortez was in came from materials in the warehouse, but it makes perfect sense if they were.”

“Totally agree with you there—that steel rod in poor Tara’s back? Same rod on Betty and Veronica, like they just needed a third to complete some sort of grisly trio.”

A thought occurs to Dan then. “Wouldn’t it be too much of coincidence that there just so happened to be only one support rod available?”

The forensic scientist gives him a look, “You think there was a third mannequin and the killer had to remove it?”

“Yeah, why not? Though I guess even if we could get some witnesses to confirm there used to be another one, how would anyone know it apart from Simmons?”

“Beats me,” Ella says, shaking her head. She stares at the corpse, and even though he can’t see her lips, he can tell by her eyes that she’s frowning. “Like a doll in a showcase.”

Another idea comes to mind. “There’s a terrible thought,” Dan mutters.

“What’s that?”

“What if these murders aren’t being put on display just for us; what if they’re for the killer, too, something they’re proud of. Sort of like one of those traveling art galleries.”

“Like performance art!” Ella exclaims. “Man, that would be messed up. I hate to say it, but…you could be right.”

Dan shakes his head and sighs. “I hate it when that happens.”

~*~

A few hours later, the detectives are able to wrap up and head back to the station. On the way, they grab sandwiches from a drive-thru. Dan’s the one driving again, so Chloe digs in to her lunch.

Apart from ordering for them and a few exchanges regarding the case, he hasn’t said a word and isn’t planning on doing so unless she wants him to. He’ll gladly answer any question she asks, but he also wants to give her space and time to think, however long she needs.

While snacking on some potato chips, she nonchalantly throws out, “So what happened to, ‘Lucifer is evil,’ ‘he’s a creep,’ ‘you shouldn’t be friends with him’?”

He gives her a cautious, curious glance. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

Through a mouthful of chips, “Oh, I still am. I’m just, you know,” she waves a chip around in her hand, “I’m compartmentalizing.”

“Ok…”

After about a minute, she clears her throat, takes a sip from an iced tea, and lets out an exhausted sigh. “Look, Dan, I don’t want to fight. I’m still really upset, but what you said earlier did mean a lot to me. I really want to believe you, too, but…I need time to think.” She raises her eyebrows, “Having the whole weekend to myself will definitely help.”

Dan is hesitant to ask at first, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “So…does Ella know, then? Is that why you made plans with her? Cause I just—it’d be good to know who else knows.”

Chloe gives him a rather snarky look. “Yeah, it is good know, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes, sensing an ease in the tension between them. “C’mon, give me a break. Independent of everything else—I didn’t know you knew until two days ago, and since then I haven’t had any idea how to tell you. I mean, how would you have brought it up with me to see if I knew? It’s not easy.”

She purses her lips and shrugs. “You’re right, it’s not. And no, Ella doesn’t know.”

“Ok. Well, that’s good—I guess. I mean, it’s good to know who I need to be careful around.”

Chloe nods. Then she zeroes her gaze back on Dan and pops another chip in her mouth. “So, you never answered my question.”

Dan can feel a flush creeping up his cheeks. He promised to himself that he would answer her questions, though. He sighs and looks at her before returning his gaze to the road. “You really want to know?”

Her eyes dart left and right and she shrugs, “Yeah.”

“Ok. Well until _very_ recently, I was never ok with how I felt about liking other men, so much so that I resented those feelings until they got twisted into irrational hatred.” He deliberately holds off from saying more, knowing she’ll be able to fill in the blanks.

Sure enough, she pieces some things together in her head and snorts. “Are you saying you had a crush on him? Like in grade school when the more you openly hated someone it meant the more you actually liked them?”

He glances at her and smiles out of the corner of his mouth, “I think so, yeah.”

Chloe looks away, thinking to herself. There’s a look on her face somewhere between disappointed and thoughtful. “You know, that makes a _lot_ of sense.” She shakes her head, “But how did you start _dating?_ I mean, he and I always had problems figuring each other out. What made it so easy for you guys?”

“We made a deal,” Dan says softly.

“Wait, so, you and Lucifer started sleeping together because you made a deal with him?” Chloe rolls her eyes, “Usually doesn’t take more than a pulse and a ‘yes’ to get that man interested.”

Dan adjusts in his seat and sighs, “Actually we slept together before that happened—well, sort of. Before I go any further I should mention that Amenadiel only watched over Hell for him that one time. He normally doesn’t leave it.”

He’s impressed with his own ability to avoid bringing up the first time Lucifer came to him. It doesn’t feel very relevant to the conversation, so he hopes it doesn’t count as another lie.

She frowns. “Ok, now I’m confused. How did all of this happen anyway?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain. Apparently, prayer is a thing that actually works—it’s like projecting your thoughts, only super concentrated. Last week, I was thinking so hard about how much I hated him and wanted some kind of closure that he showed up in my dreams. That’s when I found out the truth.”

Chloe struggles for a bit to comprehend that and then scrunches her brow tightly. “But…how? I’ve thought about him a lot since he left. Why is it different with you?” She visibly looks distressed while trying to keep it together.

Dan frowns. He wants to reach out to her, but refrains from doing so. “We don’t have to have this conversation right now if you don’t want to.”

Ever the stubborn one, Chloe shakes her head and clears her throat. “Mm, no, it’s fine. I just—I want to understand. I’ll have a breakdown later. Right now, having answers helps. It gives me something to focus on.”

He nods. “Ok.” He concentrates on the traffic in front of him. “I grew up in a household where prayer was a big part of my life. You didn’t. Your world view was never influenced by a religion. Lucifer once told me that even after you learned the truth, you still chose not to see him ‘that way.’ I assumed he was referring to that burned up, Devil look he has—.”

“—you saw it?” she cuts in with gasp.

“Yeah, the second night he visited me in my dreams.”

“And you still wanted to…weren’t you terrified?”

Dan remembers seeing Maze’s grisly demon side and compares it to when he saw Lucifer’s charred face and red eyes for the first time. “Maybe not as much as I should have been. I saw Maze’s face first—I was still reeling from learning the truth when she just sprung it on me. That shit was terrifying.” He twitches his head involuntarily at the memory.

“Maze?” surprise is evident in Chloe’s tone.

He glances over at her. “You haven’t seen it yet? She looks totally different than Lucifer. I mean, she’s a demon so I guess she would but—yeah—it’s _very_ different.”

A boiling look fills Chloe’s eyes. She holds her hand up and lets out an irritated huff. “All right, you know what? It took me a long time—a _long_ time—to accept the truth about Lucifer being the Devil, and that Maze is a demon, and that Amenadiel is an angel—.”

“—that one actually made sense to me,” Dan adds.

“—ok, yeah, me too. But what I’m getting at is that you only just found out about all of this and you seem totally fine with it! In fact, you’re so fine with it that you’re dating the _actual_ Devil like it’s nothing. Dan, after learning the truth, I ran away for a month because I was so scared. I didn’t know what to think. Even Linda was able to get over it quicker than I was—and she had an angel baby!” She shakes her head and swallows. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Without thinking, Dan reaches out and takes her hand, she doesn’t stop him. “Of course not! Why would you say that?”

Chloe tears up but keeps it just below the surface. “I don’t know, it just seems like everyone I know is either not really taking this seriously or I’m the only one who can’t seem to handle it.”

“That’s ridiculous. If anything, you probably handled it better than any of us. You stepped away so you could pull yourself together. You did what was right for you.” He squeezes her hand and then lets go. “If it makes you feel better I’ve had like, four freak-outs since I found out.”

“Really?” she asks, hopefully. “I mean, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be glad about that but,” she sniffs, “It does help, knowing that it had at least _some_ affect on you.”

“You have no idea,” he scoffs with an eye roll. “I’ve screamed, I’ve cried, I’ve stopped breathing; one time I even went completely catatonic.”

“Wow. But…you’re better now?” she asks. This time, there’s caution in her eyes.

“Yeah, I am. After the last time—the catatonic one, actually—I think I finally got it all out of my system. My point is: everyone’s different. We all deal with shit in our own ways. You flew to Europe; I drooled on the floor; whatever works.”

That gets her to smile and they both start laughing.

He’s so grateful to see her laugh. There’s still some sadness in her eyes, but he has a feeling that it won’t last. Seeing the brightness of her smile tells him that it’s possible. After everything that’s happened, it’s the most he could hope for.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More serious discussion between Dan & Chloe. Some more case talk. Breezy weekend with the kiddo, with a few guests. Some difficult moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one has come so late. My day got unexpectedly busy. This one's a bit of an emotional roller coaster. Apologies in advance.

Chloe is quiet the rest of the drive back to the precinct. But the moment Dan parks the car in the garage and turns off the ignition, his partner can’t hold her thoughts in any longer.

“Who else knows?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

She huffs and then stares ahead. “About you and Lucifer. I know I can’t be the first person you told.”

He knows he deserves it, but the truth in her statement still stings.

Dan averts his eyes and looks down at his lap. “I started therapy back up, so Linda knows—Maze, too. But both of them don’t know that he and I are actually _dating_ , only that we’ve slept together. I know I didn’t tell you _who_ it was,” he turns to look at her again, “but you _were_ the first person I told that I was dating a guy.”

That earns him a light smile, though it doesn’t last long when a thought occurs to him and he suddenly gives her an apologetic look.

“What?” she says flatly.

He rubs the back of his neck and groans. “When I first told you I was with someone, I said he was fine with me seeing you. That turned out not to be true; I thought you should know, and this is me trying to fix that.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest in such a way that suggests she’s ready to argue a point. It’s cute, but Dan is careful not to smile—he knows she hates it when he thinks she looks cute when she’s trying to be serious.

“Well,” she begins, “there are plenty of reasons why that’s definitely a bad idea—.”

“—and I meant what I said about not being sure I could date multiple people.”

“So why doesn’t he want me seeing you?”

“To be clear, it’s not just about you. It…it has to do with the deal we made, actually.”

Chloe picks up on his sudden shift in attitude and relaxes her posture. She surprises him when she asks, “Can you tell me what it is?”

He assumes she’s been around Lucifer long enough to know that making a deal with the Devil can be a pretty damn personal thing. He appreciates her respect for it.

“I asked him to help me stop hating myself. I realized everything that made me hate him was actually just everything I didn’t like about me. So he came up with the idea that we should start dating and just focus on each other. He said if I could learn to be selfless and care about the person who represented everything I hated about myself, then I could work through my issues and find a way to make peace with them.”

Chloe widens her eyes and gives him a slow blink. “ _Lucifer_ said that?”

“I know how that sounds. But I swear to you, Chlo, it was all his idea. He had no help from me.”

“How have you guys even had time for all of this?”

He really doesn’t feel qualified to explain it properly, but he gives it his best shot. “You know how when you have a dream, it seems like a _lot_ can happen, like more than should be possible in the amount of time you were asleep?”

She thinks about that for a second and bobs her head, “Sure.”

“Apparently, that’s really what happens when we dream, and I guess it’s close to the same way that time moves in Hell. Lucifer can actually _split_ his attention between watching over Hell _and_ being in my dreams. So, when he’s with me, we have a lot more time than we normally would.”

“Huh,” she says. It’s painfully obvious that this is the first time she’s heard of any of this.

It feels weird to talk about—and kind of awful. Dan thinks these are all things that she should know already; it seems wrong that he’s the one to bring her up to speed. And it’s at that moment that he realizes that there’s something else he has to tell her.

“Earlier, you asked me why Lucifer could hear my thoughts and not yours.”

She gives him a worried look. “I thought you said it was because I wasn’t religious.”

He shrugs. “I think that’s a big part of it—or it could be the only reason. But there’s something else that might be preventing it from happening.”

“Does this have to do with why Lucifer is vulnerable around me?”

“Yeah—do you actually know why that is?”

Chloe’s lips tighten together for a second. “Why?”

Dan draws in a breath, ready for what is sure to be a very rough moment. “You’re a miracle, Chloe.”

Totally thrown by that, she just blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but…Amenadiel was instructed by God to bless your mother so that you could be born. And I think that whatever makes you, _you_ , cancels out anything spiritual, so that’s why Lucifer can’t hear your thoughts.”

She stares at him. “You’re serious? You’re actually serious? A miracle? I’m a miracle? How long have you known?”

He gulps. “A few days, but I only found out last night that you didn’t know.”

“And Lucifer told you this?”

“Actually, no, it was Amenadiel. Lucifer doesn’t like talking about it. He’s paranoid that since you were basically put in his path on purpose, God is trying to play matchmaker with you guys, and you know how Lucifer loses his shit every time he thinks his dad is involved in anything.”

Chloe leans back in her seat, inhaling deeply and then exhaling slowly. She cocks her head to the side, thinking to herself. After a full minute of this, she takes one more audible breath and then sighs. She turns to look at him. “Can you pray to him any time?”

“Yeah,” he replies carefully.

“Can he see you or feel you, or can he only hear you?”

He hesitates “…It’s more complex than that. I’m not sure how to explain it.”

She shakes her head, “Fine. I need to ask you a favor.”

Dan shrugs, “Of course, anything. What, are you hoping you can send him a message through me?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean, like, right now?”

“Could you? Please?”

“I can try,” he says, feeling a little wary.

“I would _really_ appreciate it,” she says.

“Ok.” He straightens up in his seat, closes his eyes and tries to focus. It feels a little weird to do this in front of someone, especially his ex-wife.

He thinks of Lucifer, and, unexpectedly, he actually _feels_ a slight tug inside the pit of his stomach, similar to whenever they touch, and it makes him gasp softly. That’s new.

Dan realizes that this is the first time he’s done this while conscious since they’ve created their bond; it must have something to do with the gravity-pull feeling that’s developed between them.

Keeping his eyes closed, his mind centered, he gives a nod and says, “Ok, go ahead.”

**_SMACK!_ **

He sucks in a breath and jerks his head towards Chloe in surprise.

She stares at him with pain-filled eyes. In a cold voice, she asks, “Do you think he got the message?”

He just blinks at her, not sure how to respond.

Chloe looks away. She sniffs, wipes a few tears from her face, and then gets out of the car.

Dan lets out a shaky breath and rubs his cheek. It stings and feels hot.

Worried, he closes his eyes again and reaches out to Lucifer. Much more gradually, he feels the magnetic sensation spread through him, only this time, he’s also picking up on the confusion and shock that Lucifer must be feeling from what happened.

As the connection opens further, he’s hit with a sudden rush of emotions.

He’s suffocating in a strong, dizzying sense of loss, regret, and overwhelming shame. It starts to make him ache from the center of his body outward. He tenses up, his face contorting violently. And then all at once, he breaks into a sob. Tears breach the surface and trickle down his face, even though he did not cause them.

~*~

After a few minutes of feeling consumed by emotions outside of himself, Dan manages to gather up soothing thoughts of comfort and apology. He tries to use his prayers to calm Lucifer down and stop or at least ease the heavy feelings that they both seem to be experiencing.

It’s difficult, since they’re so far apart and Lucifer’s will is much stronger than his. At least, that’s what Dan assumes why this is so hard to do. But eventually, his gentle assurances settle things down. The tugging sensation shifts back to something that is more benign. As soon as it feels stable, he opens his eyes and sighs raggedly.

He wipes at his cheeks, clears his throat, and gets out of his car.

Chloe is standing on the other side, staring at him with red, wet eyes, and giving him a cautious, speculative look. She must have seen whatever it was he went through.

In a soft voice, she asks. “He actually felt that, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Dan replies gruffly.

“Did he…say anything to you?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” He flashes a bitter glare, “But you got your point across, to both of us.”

She looks down and nods slowly.

Dan feels raw and violated.

And yet, he knows Chloe didn’t understand what she was doing. She still has every right to be upset at both of them. But, he has to draw the line somewhere.

He walks around the front of the car and approaches her, keeping his eyes glued to the pavement. He draws in a breath and lifts his gaze up carefully. She looks just as torn as he is.

“Look, Chlo, I want to give you as much time and space as you need. Hell, if you decide you never want to talk to me again outside of necessity, fine, I can handle that. I’ll still be here for you, whenever you need me. And as fucked up as it is, I seem to know more about all of this divine stuff than you do, so if you have questions, I’ll do my best to answer them. But what you just did can _never_ happen again. Ok?”

“Ok,” she says, giving him a very delicate glance.

He doesn’t feel strong enough to be very positive. He’s all used up in that department. He manages to pull her into a hug, which is easily reciprocated. At least they can still do this.

~*~

With a cursory dual inspection of their appearances, Dan and Chloe dust off of their tears and mop up their emotions before heading back into the precinct via the elevator. There’s a strong sense of mutual exhaustion and tension between them—but it feels less about things unsaid and more about everything they’ve already been through today.

Dan’s stomach growls and he realizes he left his sandwich back in the car. He groans, “Shit, I forgot my lunch. Mind if I catch up with you later?”

She nods and clears her throat, “Sure, yeah.”

The elevator _dings_ and the doors open to reveal Ella Lopez on the other side.

“Oh! Perfect, I was just on my way to find you guys! I have great—well, great in a terrible way—news!”

Automatically, Dan and Chloe press their hands on the elevator frame to keep the doors from trying to close. Chloe catches sight of a file in Ella’s hands. “Is that the tox screen?”

“That was fast,” Dan says.

Ms. Lopez grins, “Ah-huh. First thing I did when I got back. Tara Simmons was in fact tranquilized with heroin, which was identical to the kind used on our security guard, Diego. Lady and gentleman, we have a serial killer on our hands.”

Chloe turns to Dan, “Meet you in the conference room?”

“Yeah,” Dan says, and steps back as Chloe steps forward.

He watches her walk off with Ella as the doors close, and lets out an exasperated sigh. He feels lightheaded and leans back against the wall. Damn, he needs to eat, like, _now_.

He’s probably feeling extra out of it because of what happened in the car, _and_ from everything last night. He’s been doing great at keeping his shit together all morning, guess he shouldn’t be surprised that his energy could only last so long.

The elevator starts moving and he realizes that he forgot to push the ‘Garage’ button. He does so, but not before the lift takes him up to the second floor.

The doors open to reveal Zach Field.

“Oh, hey, Dan! Mind if I join you?”

Dan smirks and steps aside, “I think can make room. Where you headed?”

The lieutenant’s eyes glance at the button panel, “The garage—same as you. So, any progress on your most recent investigation?”

“Yeah, actually—forensics just confirmed that all three homicides we’ve been working on are linked.”

Field narrows his gaze, “Serial murders, huh? You know, I have several years as a profiler under my belt if you’re in need of some help on this one?”

Dan looks at him in surprise, “That would be awesome. We’ve had one hell of a time trying to narrow down motive.”

They get to the ground floor and both men step outside. Zach quirks a curious eyebrow at him, “Any theories?”

“The killer seems interested in targeting the LAPD specifically. My partner and I came up with the possibility that it could be a cop. They left a note that seemed personal in nature, the evidence trail has been difficult to track and some of it’s been purposefully misleading.”

“You think it’s someone who got canned by the department for reasons they thought were unfair?”

Dan makes a motion with his head and they walk towards his car. “Maybe, but it would have to be an old grudge, no one’s been fired in years. Unless it’s someone still on the force.”

“Since our talk, I’ve been going over a few backlogs of complaints in regards to a handful of officers. I won’t say much—.”

“—you probably shouldn’t then.” The lieutenant blinks at him. “Honestly, Zach, unless you think it’s connected to my case, it’s not really any of my business whose files you dig into for misconduct.” Dan unlocks his car and grabs his sandwich. He pops back up and says, “The less I know, the better, you know?”

Field grins at him. “You don’t like keeping secrets, huh?”

“They’re usually more trouble than they’re worth.”

The lieutenant walks towards his own vehicle. “Oh, I dunno, everyone’s got something worth keeping to themselves. Besides, if no one was a mystery then you’d be out of a job.”

Dan chuckles, “Well I guess there’s that.”

Field grabs a lunch tote and they walk back to the elevator. Once inside, he asks, “So you got any big plans for the weekend?”

“Whatever my daughter wants to do; I get her every other weekend.”

“Oh, that’s right, you and Decker share a kid, don’t you?”

“We do, yeah,” Dan replies, nodding a little quickly.

Despite his best efforts to play it cool, a small tendril of anxiety climbs through him, threatening to make him break down.

He needs to eat. And sleep. And stop worrying. But he can’t shake the feeling that the tension between him and Chloe is far from over.

Zach is perceptive enough that he nudges Dan and leans in briefly. “You alright?”

As the doors open, Dan cracks a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. I just need to get some food in me.”

Concern flashes across Zach’s eyes for a second before his usual friendly drawl returns. “Well if your partner’s good with me hopping on the investigation then she can get me up to speed while you chow down.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Dan says, and leads them towards the conference room.

~*~

Fortunately, Chloe doesn’t mind adding Field to the team. It probably means she’s feeling just as stumped by this case as Dan is. It’s also her first time really meeting the new lieutenant, and she seems to get along with him just as effortlessly as Dan does. It’s nice when things are easy.

After being briefed on all three murders, Zach offers his insights. He turns out to be incredibly detail-oriented, drawing attention to little things that help create a stronger picture of the kind of person they’re looking for.

Per the lieutenant’s observations, the killer is more than likely a man, or a woman who lifts on the regular. James McMillan’s kneecaps had to be shattered before he could fit properly in the waste container. At six-foot-two, two-hundred-twenty-five pounds, he wouldn’t have been easy to lift into the bin. Even if he was shoved into it while it was on its side, Dan and Chloe had found it when it was upright, so it had to have been moved. It’s not impossible for a woman to have done, but also taking into account that the killer had to load and hang a contractor bag with ten gallons of paint for the trap at the front door, then carry and dump twenty more into the container, when each five gallon bucket at full weight is about fifty pounds, then there is a lot of heavy lifting to consider.

The killer is not just creating displays he’s proud of showing off to the LAPD, but he’s actually looking for a certain level of recognition for his efforts. Each murder so far has been elaborate and time-consuming, and not just in the act itself, but in the grunt work as well. If he was or is in fact a cop, then he’s the type who is used to working stakeouts. He also prides himself on his ability to keep track of his targets’ movements successfully, probably to such a degree that if he thinks it’s not one-hundred percent in his control, then he won’t go through with it.

These assumptions lead the three of them to determine that they must be looking for someone who might be retired on a sizable pension, because of the time and resources needed to carry out such thorough work. It’s an angle neither Chloe nor Dan have explored yet and they’re grateful to the lieutenant for his help.

He offers to continue to aid them in their investigation as much as they need, and after a few hours, leaves them to concentrate on narrowing down the search so he can get back to his own duties. Before exiting the room, he invites Dan out for beers sometime next week, maybe Thursday again; they could make a thing of it.

Dan eagerly agrees and is glad he didn’t have to be the one to ask. He doesn’t think Zach would have minded, but somehow he just feels better to be invited instead of being the one doing the inviting. Clearly, he’s still a little apprehensive about being friendly with men now that he’s realized his attraction to them.

Despite all of the awkward pressure between him and Chloe, he catches her snickering at him after Lieutenant Field leaves them alone. It makes him smile a little sheepishly and he can feel a blush creeping up in his cheeks.

Chloe lightly teases him, he tries to insist that ‘it’s not like that,’ and she just nods like she doesn’t believe him. It’s good that she can be a little playful with him, even if it only comes in brief moments before she grows quiet again.

He knows it’s because they’ve always been good at being around each other, even when things get tough. It’s not typical for divorcees, Dan knows, and he considers himself very lucky to know someone the way he knows Chloe.

Still, he can see it in her eyes and in her rigid body language; she’s hurt, and she needs time. He keeps his head down, absorbed in his work, and tries not to speak unless it’s necessary or unless she talks to him. Whatever it takes.

~*~

When it’s time to punch out and go pick up Trixie, Dan practically leaps from his chair. He wraps up everything he was working on, grabs his jacket and heads towards the door.

“Hey, Dan?” Chloe calls out.

He halts hard enough that his shoes actually squeak on the floor. “Yeah?”

She falters for a second before clearing her throat. “Have a good weekend.”

“You too,” he says, and means it.

They briefly smile at each other and then he heads out of the precinct and down to his car. He is so damn ready to start his weekend and cannot wait to just relax. With the enthusiasm of a twelve-year old by his side, it shouldn’t be too hard.

He doesn’t have to wait outside the school for very long before Trixie is rushing up to greet him with a fierce hug that knocks him against his car.

Once they’re on the road, he says, “Alright, so, we gotta get your stuff from your moms’ first, but after that, what would you like to do with your Friday night?”

“I wanna play some poker!” she says, bouncing in her seat.

“Since when do you know how to play poker?” he tries to keep the surprise in his voice to a minimum.

“Since Maze taught me when she was still living with us. She says I’m not bad for a ‘little human,’” Trixie giggles.

 _Damn it, Maze_.

Well, it’s not really that bad. If anything, Dan feels a little disappointed that it’s just one more thing that he didn’t get to do with her first. But, screw it; he can still make the best of it.

“Oh, is that so? How much you wanna bet this ‘big human’ can beat you?”

“A thousand bucks!”

He raises his brow. “That’s a pretty steep bet, Monkey.”

The little girl laughs. “We don’t play with _actual_ money, Dad. Mom didn’t want me to mess with my allowance so we use chocolate coins instead.”

Well that’s a relief.

Dan grins, “Now you’re talking! But not before dinner. Don’t want to ruin your appetite for Five Guys.”

She gasps excitedly, “Really?”

“Yeah, why not, it’s been a while.” It melts his heart to see her so thrilled. True, spoiling her is kind of like cheating, but he just loves to see her happy. And he’s had a craving for a burger all week anyway.

“Awesome! Oh, we should invite Maze over to play with us!”

Dan has a second to hesitate, thinking about how he knows that Ella is going to plan a girl’s night out for Chloe and he’s sure Maze will be invited. And, part of him does want some solid father-daughter bonding time. But, they do have all weekend. Besides, poker is way better with more people, even if it is for chocolate coins.

“Yeah, that could be fun.”

“Yes!” Trixie exclaims with a fist pump.

~*~

 ** _Dan (5:03pm):_** Hey. Trix wants me to invite you to a poker game at my place. Nice job sneaking that one past me btw.

 ** _Maze (5:04pm):_** You forbid knife throwing so I had to teach her something else. What time? I have plans later.

 ** _Dan (5:06pm):_** With good reason. Around six? We’re stopping at Five Guys first.

 ** _Maze (5:06pm):_** Bacon burger w/hot sauce, grilled onions, green peppers, mustard and a cherry coke.

 ** _Dan (5:08pm):_** So demanding.

 ** _Maze (5:09pm):_** See you around six.

~*~

Of course, because Maze can never do anything without adding a bit of chaos to it, she surprises Dan by showing up with Amenadiel. At least it’s someone he knows, and thankfully, Trixie likes him and just seems excited to have more company.

When the big man is out of earshot, Maze casually whispers to Dan that Amenadiel is hilarious to play card games with because he doesn’t understand what a ‘game face’ is. Also, Linda was eager to have some alone time at the house with Charlie, so she encouraged the idea—Dan can blame her, if he wants.

Dan can’t deny that he’s curious to see what Maze is talking about and he’s glad to see the angel anyway. He’d like to ask him if he’s had any luck in his research he’s been doing for him, but knows that’s really a conversation for much later.

Over the next three hours, the evening is spent with lots of laughter and an overabundance of cheap chocolate coin wrappers scattered all over Dan’s dining table.

As it turns out, Maze wasn’t kidding about Amenadiel: he’s _very_ expressive each time he gets a new card. It’s so obvious that even Trixie picks up on it and exploits it about three times before realizing that the angel isn’t doing it on purpose. Both Dan and Maze exchange knowing, amused glances every time.

Amenadiel ends up being the first to fold, and surprisingly, Maze follows not long after him. Dan is thrilled that he’s actually feeling a little challenged by his own daughter—the bounty hunter taught her well.

In the end, Trixie calls his bluff and wins what remains of the coins. At some point in the evening, a decision was made to eliminate the white-wrapper pieces from the game so that they could be eaten, the red were soon sacrificed not long after. Trixie is proudly left with a large stack of green, blue and black coins, which Dan quickly convinces her to hold on to for the rest of the weekend before eating them.

By about nine-thirty, Maze and Amenadiel see that the little girl is starting to hit the sugar burnout. Also, Maze’s phone has been blowing up for the last half an hour—it’s Ella, bugging her to get her ass down to wherever she and Chloe are for tribe night. Maze has to drop Amenadiel off and pick up Linda before she heads over anyway.

Trixie hugs both of them goodbye, and Dan has a private moment to consider how bizarre the scene is, knowing what he knows. He tells her to get ready for bed and then sees the other adults out.

He tells Amenadiel to call sometime so they can catch up. The angel gives him a one-armed hug and promises to do just that, and winks at him because he sucks at being subtle.

To Maze, he praises her (a bit sarcastically) for teaching Trixie to be a damn good poker player. The demon punches him in the shoulder and thanks him for the burger.

Once Dan’s back inside, he cleans up the table and then slips into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He grabs a comforter and a pillow from his closet and stuffs it to one side on the couch. He always lets Trixie have his bed when she stays over.

They curl up and watch a few episodes of _Once Upon a Time_. Trixie starts to nod off just when Dan starts to feel a little awkward about how much Captain Hook’s accent makes him miss a certain someone.

He gets his daughter tucked in bed and kisses her goodnight. Afterwards, it takes him a few minutes to get settled on the couch.

When he finally relaxes, he lets out a long sigh and his body slackens beneath the comforter like it had been waiting to do it all day, practically melting into the couch.

Physical and psychological exhaustion from _everything_ that has occurred today are quick to smother him in a swift embrace. He doesn’t fight any of it, and passes right the fuck out. He does not dream at all.

~*~

Saturday rolls around and Dan finds himself in a sort of peaceful haze most of the day. After everything that’s happened to him, the aggressively simple and normal activities he does with Trixie feel almost alien to him—even though he still enjoys himself and feels grateful to be spending time with his daughter.

He makes waffles for breakfast. She watches cartoons. He does the dishes. She colors in one of those hyper-detailed coloring books. They go to the beach. Trixie talks about school and tells stories about her and her friends. Dan listens and shares child-friendly versions of stories of his own. They have lunch at a café. They head home and play some video games. He makes spaghetti and salad for dinner. She paints his nails while they watch some more _Once Upon a Time_.

When he goes to sleep that night, he thinks of Lucifer, and wonders if he’s ok. He receives no response, no dream, and by the following morning, he feels less relaxed than the day before.

They spend all of Sunday mostly indoors. After breakfast, Dan helps Trixie with her homework. They play a few board games and eat way too much chocolate. They go for a late afternoon walk through the neighborhood. She helps him make dinner this time—homemade chicken noodle soup. Afterwards, Dan reads to her until she falls asleep.

The reading helped to take his mind off of his worries, but once he settles down for the night, he starts to grow concerned again.

He knows that Lucifer promised not to bother him during the weekend. But under the recent circumstances, Dan can’t help but wonder if something is wrong. Friday night he was beyond tired, but last night, he had tried to reach out and found it unsettling that nothing came of it.

Lucifer could be avoiding him because of what happened with Chloe. In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more likely it feels like that might be the case. He considers that this might be worse than he realizes. What if what he felt was only an echo of what Lucifer experienced when Chloe struck him while he was praying?

The more Dan lets his mind roam, the worse he feels.

Even though he knows it’s not necessary, in a desperate attempt to increase his concentration, Dan laces his fingers together. He closes his eyes and steadies his breathing, letting his heart do the talking.

All is silent in his living room. He can hear his own pulse. A dog barks outside down the street. Sirens whine off in the distance. He suddenly feels very alone.

He lets his thoughts of Lucifer drift out through the ether, asking (begging) to be heard.

Nothing.

Dan doesn’t stop. He repeats his train of thought, over and over, until he begins to vocalize his prayers without really realizing it. His voice carries barely above a whisper. Gradually, he subdues himself to sleep.

~*~

“Points for having no furniture from Ikea—though your choice in color scheme definitely leaves something to be desired.”

Dan opens his eyes to find himself in a dream version of his living room. Lucifer is standing in the farthest corner opposite him, hands in his pockets, looking around the room like he’s in an art gallery, and is avoiding making eye contact.

He creases his brow and stands up. “Critique me later—where have you been?”

The Devil flashes him a glance and then averts his gaze again. “You asked me to stay away, so I did.” His stance is rigid. He seems nervous.

“But are you ok?” Dan takes a few steps towards him. “After what happened—.”

“—an unexpected occurrence, but it won’t happen again.” Lucifer is careful to stay out of arms reach, his movements wary. “I only came because I thought I better put your concerns to rest. As you can see, I’m fine, so you can go back to sleep.”

He reaches out to him.

Lucifer steps back. “Don’t.”

Dan takes a deep breath and tries not to get frustrated. He’s not going to let Lucifer just weasel his way out of this one. “Clearly, you’re _not_ fine—why won’t you let me touch you?”

“I thought you didn’t want me tempting you in your sleep—your offspring is nearby, remember?”

“That’s bullshit! Don’t bring her into this. You’re avoiding me because of what happened with Chloe.”

Lucifer flinches at her name.

Dan feels awful. He sighs and shakes his head. “Why won’t you talk about it?”

 _“Because it hurts too much!”_ he screams.

He starts convulsing with a mixture of rage and anguish like he can no longer contain what he’s feeling. Dan goes to him and the magnetic pull draws them together with a sudden snap.

They gasp when they touch. Dan crumbles into Lucifer’s arms, overcome with a shock to his senses. He winces and shakes; a suffocating sense of raw anguish fills him from head to toe. “What’s—what is this?”

“I…tried to stop you,” Lucifer grits between clenched teeth. His hands are gripping Dan’s body tightly. They’re both shuddering. “I tried to warn you—but you’re so—bloody persistent.”

Beneath the agonizing disorientation, what Lucifer says gives Dan an idea.

He focuses on the certainty/connection feeling he’s grown to recognize between them. As he reaches through it, Lucifer jerks against him.

A violent, cold rush smashes against Dan’s inner mind. He hisses but fights through it. As he trudges through the sensation, he tries to seek that immense, formless thing that he knows is at the end of everything. _Like a moth to flame_ , Lucifer had said.

He can feel it. It’s within reach, but it seems different than before. There’s a flash, or a fracture, of light. It’s familiar but not, somehow. Something is wrong, very wrong. He presses forward. He won’t stop. The gravity-like pull between him and Lucifer tightens.

There’s pain. _So much pain._ It threatens to push him back, to keep him from getting further.

Dan concentrates. In his mind’s eye, he can see the fractured light—it’s so bright it feels like it’s blinding him from the inside. He doesn’t care. He’s closer than he’s ever been before. Nothing else matters but making this suffering _stop_.

He holds Lucifer, and sinks into the cracks where the light seems to break.

~*~

Their bodies stop shaking. Their breathing returns to normal. The invasive sense of torment that had been soaking through Dan dissipates. It ebbs like a tide, but doesn’t return, getting further and further away until it ceases to exist, except in memory.

In its place, contentment and connection fills in. He can feel Lucifer’s warmth and the gravity-like pull of their bond. He can sense that they’re still in the dream, because the sensations are not as strong as they could be, but they’re reassuring, nonetheless.

He continues to spread his thoughts to Lucifer, projecting everything that he feels, and hoping that he can feel it, too. Dan continues to hold him, unwilling and unable to let go.

Lucifer clutches at him fiercely, like he’s afraid Dan will disappear. He’s still reeling from whatever happened to him. He has his face buried against Dan’s neck, which is starting to feel damp.

Dan uses dream-logic to transport them someplace else. He thinks of the penthouse, and they are lying on top of the bed, still in each other’s arms. He reaches up with one hand, brushes his fingers through Lucifer’s hair.

After what seems like a long time, Lucifer finally starts to relax in Dan’s embrace, enough that his body goes slack beside him. For a moment, Dan wonders if he somehow fell asleep, but when he looks down, he sees Lucifer’s eyes are open. He’s staring at Dan’s chest, though his expression seems far away.

With his other hand, Dan cups the side of Lucifer’s face, stroking his thumb across his cheek. The action makes the Devil close his eyes and breathe in gently. He exhales a sigh and tilts his head up to look at Dan thoughtfully.

Dan smiles at him. He wants to know what happened. He’s afraid to ask; fearing that being direct might be too much right now. Instead, a different tactic comes to mind. “What’s your favorite color?”

The question does what he hopes and Lucifer’s cautious mould breaks up and he frowns. “I beg your pardon?”

“What’s your favorite color? Somehow, I don’t think it’s red—even though that seems to be a big part of your aesthetic.”

With a puzzled scrunch of his face, Lucifer says slowly, “You’d be right about that. But I enjoy colors the way I enjoy people; every one of them is worth appreciating in different ways. I don’t think I have just one.”

Dan smirks. “I should have guessed that. What about an animal?”

A small smile works its way on to Lucifer’s lips. “Where _are_ you going with all this?”

“I wanna know,” he shrugs. “So, do you have a favorite?”

Lucifer’s natural demeanor starts to edge its way back into his voice and mannerisms. “I assume if I say its humans that would be cheating?”

Dan laughs and points a finger at him, “Ok, _that_ one I knew.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

He leans forward and nuzzles their noses. “Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it first, in case I turned out to be wrong.”

Lucifer grins. “Now look who’s cheating.”

They kiss, but it’s neither hurried nor gratuitous. Dan lets it carry on only for a bit longer before he pulls away. He stares at Lucifer with a suspicious, yet playful look. “So why British?”

“What, you mean the accent?”

“Yeah, I mean—you were around _way_ before the English language even existed. Shouldn’t you sound, I dunno…”

The Devil curls his lips smugly. “More enigmatic? Hard to place? Exotic?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Well…yeah,” Dan says, shrugging again.

“Where’s the fun in that if that’s what you expect?”

He blinks. “Huh, guess I never thought of it that way. Still though—you couldn’t have always talked like this. That’s just not how accents or languages work.”

Lucifer’s confidence continues to grow and he rolls Dan onto his back and climbs above him. “Oh, so you’re a linguistics expert now, are you?” He threads their hands together and keeps Dan’s arms pinned down.

Dan grins and halfheartedly pushes back, but not enough to break the hold. “No, just bilingual. You learn a lot when you’re exposed to multiple languages at the same time. You get a better sense of why they develop the way they do. You still haven’t answered my question.”

Dipping his head forward, Lucifer graces Dan’s lips with a brief kiss and then chuckles warmly, “Persistent as always. Just as food and drink have a mouthfeel, so do accents. I like the way this one feels the most. Besides, I learned long ago that with a British accent, in America, you can pretty much get away with saying anything and people just think you’re charming.”

“Whatever you say,” Dan says dreamily, shaking his head. They both break into laughter and kiss again.

When they calm down, Lucifer settles his body on top of Dan. He lets go of his hands, letting one tousle Dan’s hair absently while the other rests over his shoulder and chest.

Dan’s hands wrap over Lucifer’s back, holding him loosely.

An attentive gaze crosses over Lucifer’s face. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me from myself.”

That makes Dan frown. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer’s eyes drift away from him to stare somewhere else. He swallows. “Tell me what happened with Chloe, first. It will allow me to answer you better.”

Dan is quiet for a moment. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I told her that you and I were together. She was really upset about that, but she was angrier that I kept something from her. When I told her she was a miracle, I think that set her off, because that’s something that _you_ kept from her. That’s when she asked me if I could pray to you so she could send you a message.”

The Devil’s eyes flick up to meet Dan’s gaze and his jaw tightens. “She tricked you.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“She didn’t have to.”

“But she didn’t know what it would mean. I didn’t tell her about the soul bond.”

A red flash passes through Lucifer’s eyes. “She _used_ you to get to _me_ , Daniel! She knew all she needed to know. Remember, I’m vulnerable in her presence. When she struck you, it not only went straight through you and into me, but it went through the link that we share.”

A horrified look comes over Dan’s face. “Are you saying Chloe was able to—?”

“—Strike my very soul with the only earthly force that has ever rendered me defenseless? Yes! She wounded me in a way I never thought was possible for a human to do, let alone one that I chose to love. The pain of that was excruciating, but the shame of what I had done, how I had driven her to that point…it consumed me. That’s why I wanted you to stay away. I knew the moment you touched me that I’d infect you with my tormented thoughts—and that you would drown in them.” He shudders and starts to sob, pressing his face against Dan’s chest.

Dan rubs his hand on Lucifer’s back in soothing circles. His other hand runs through his hair, trying to keep him calm.

Chloe really didn’t know what she was doing. But… she _did_ use Dan to lash out at Lucifer. That was deliberate. Was it necessary? Or was she being cruel? Did they deserve it? Who is in the right, in this situation?

It feels like there are no simple answers to any of those questions. There may not even be any answers at all.

Turning his head to the side, Lucifer mutters, “I was afraid I would destroy us both.”

Dan shakes his head, “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He smiles gently. “I know.”

“I love you,” Dan whispers.

“And I love you,” Lucifer whispers back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't too painful and I hope it all made sense.
> 
> Fun fact: Lucifer's line, "With a British accent, in America, you can pretty much get away with saying anything and people just think you're charming," is a direct quote from Tom Ellis. It was taken from an interview he had with his vocal coach. I liked it so much, I've been holding on to it since before I started writing this story, waiting for the right moment to use it.


	23. Chapter 23 -- Tribe Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Tribe Night with the girls!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short one. Short and sweet, I hope. Light feels.

By the time Maze and Linda show up to the bar, Ella and Chloe look pretty bubbly. There are six empty shot glasses on the counter.

Maze flags down the bartender with an upturned nod and immediately gets served a whiskey double and a bottle of beer. Linda approaches the other two women with a warm smile.

Ella notices them and raises her arms up high, “Finally! You made it! You guys took _forever_.”

“I had a poker game,” Maze quips.

“She’s my ride,” Linda adds.

“Whatever. Now that we’re all here, we can get this show on the road!” She sets off to order more drinks.

Chloe turns and asks Maze, “Did you win?”

“Nah, but it’s fine. Trixie’s gettin’ good.”

“You’re keeping to the no money rule, right?” Chloe asks, creasing her brow dramatically.

She gives her a kitten-fanged grin. “Of course, nothin’ but chocolate.”

“How’s Dan?” she blurts out. The earnest look in her eyes betrays her tone.

“Didn’t you just see him, like, today?”

Linda picks up on the subtleties and looks at Chloe. “Did something happen?”

Ella returns with a tray of cocktails decorated in a rainbow of garnishes and umbrellas and stops dead in her tracks. “Whoa. Ok, what did I miss?”

Chloe stammers, “It’s—it’s nothing. I just…”

“Uh-uh, girlfriend. Here, take this and take the floor.” Ms. Lopez hands her a red and white swirly drink with a pineapple wedge and a cherry speared through the top.

She takes one look at her friends, all rapt with attention on her, and it’s suddenly too much. She scoffs and smiles nervously. “I don’t know if I should talk about it. Not—not right now, anyway.”

Maze steps closer and clinks her bottle against Chloe’s glass. “To later, then—when you’re hammered.”

Linda places a hand on Chloe’s arm. “Don’t let Maze pressure you—if you don’t feel like talking, that’s ok.”

“No pressure—just fact: when Decker’s wasted she’ll spill it.”

Chloe shrugs and starts to place the drink back on the tray. “Maybe I shouldn’t drink anymore.”

Ella raises her hand. “Hold up. Call me crazy, but maybe you _should_ drink more and you know, just, let it all out. C’mon, this is tribe night—we take care of each other.”

Maze relaxes her attitude. “I’m right—but Ella is, too. This is a safe space, Chloe.”

The doctor looks up at the demon, “Using my language, Maze? That’s very evolved of you.” The bounty hunter gives the doctor a pointed _whack_ to her butt. Linda jumps and flusters, though she smiles and shake her head afterward.

With a shrug, Ella says, “See? Everything’s chill. So, what’s going on?”

Chloe has been trying to stay strong all day. She’s tired of keeping up appearances. She tells them about how she and Dan had briefly hooked back up. Obviously, they still care about each other—and the sex is still great. But it got complicated really fast. He had just started a new relationship, he wasn’t sure of the parameters; she was honestly just feeling lonely, and that made Dan feel like he was being used.

Linda assures her that these things happen and it’s important that there is open communication between everyone involved. Ella pulls her into a fierce hug and tells her that it’ll get better. Maze commends her for taking a chance, even if it didn’t work out.

In no time at all, they down their first round of cocktails and move onto a second round. Ella and Chloe are definitely getting drunk, Linda is catching up fast, and they all have a fuzzy lilt in their voices. Maze, of course, is the only one who doesn’t.

Eventually, Chloe continues, venting more than just sharing, now that she has the liquid courage to do so.

At first, she thought it was weird that Dan wouldn’t tell her who he was with. True, it wasn’t really her business and she was fine with that. And she felt bad about rushing him, anyway. He needed some space and she understood that.

Things seemed ok between them, if not a little awkward. But then today, he told her that he had to get something off his chest, it sounded super serious, and out of the blue he said that he’s dating Lucifer and it’s—.

“—Whoa! Time out,” Ella cuts her off. “Lucifer—as in _our_ Lucifer? I thought you said he had some big family drama and he had to skip town?”

Chloe takes a huge sip of her drink and nods, wide-eyed. “You are _right_ , I did say that. That is exactly what I said.”

“So then how are they—?”

“—it’s a long distance kind of thing,” Chloe says quickly, bobbing her head and looking a little apprehensive.

She frowns. “Then why isn’t it with you? You guys always worked so well together!”

Chloe struggles to answer, when Dr. Martin swoops in, her stiff daiquiri starting to come through. “ _Sometimes_ , when people try to add romance to their friendship, it can _actually stunt_ the relationship by placing unexpected pressures on _both_ sides that weren’t present before.” She nods firmly.

The detective holds out her hand, “Exactly! It was just so hard for us to get past a certain point, you know? And whenever we tried to get close, it never worked out like I hoped it would, and it only ever seemed to make things more complicated. But, from what it sounds like, he and Dan hit it off right away and, I don’t know, if it was that easy for them but not for us, then maybe that means something.”

Ms. Lopez starts to shake her head, “Yeah, but—I thought they _hated_ each other?”

Maze shrugs, “Sometimes that makes the sex hotter.”

Linda looks at her sharply, “Maze! We don’t need to fill Chloe’s head with images of those two stupid, sexy men having a good time without her—I mean—.”

Chloe shakes her head, “No, I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s fine, really, it is. I just hate it when people keep things from me. I mean, Dan and I were _married_ and Lucifer and I were partners. Why isn’t that enough for them to trust me?” She tries not to tear up, but loses the fight in the end.

Ella brings her in for a hug, which Linda joins.

When they pull back, Maze says, “Take it from me, Decker: men are terrified of showing weakness—and snakes, surprisingly, though I think that’s a dick thing. Anyway, it’s not that they don’t trust _you_ —it’s that they’re afraid to trust you with their weaknesses.”

Dr. Martin offers, “I think what she’s trying to say is that men, in general, have a much harder time opening up than women do.”

The demon frowns. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Linda focuses back on Chloe. “The important thing is that this is not something you should blame yourself for.”

“And maybe you’re just too much of a badass for most men to handle,” says Maze.

“Awe, you guys,” Chloe hugs them both.

When she leans back, Ella is staring at them. “Ok, Chloe, you know I love you and I totally don’t want to step all over the moment, but— _Dan and Lucifer?_ C’mon, you guys! How am I the only one shocked by that? I mean, who saw that coming? How the hell did it happen? You two act like you knew alr—,” she gasps and points at them, “Oh my God, you guys _did_ know, didn’t you?”

Linda blurts, “I call exemption status! Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

Ella rolls her eyes and stares at the bounty hunter. “Cheap shot but it’s a solid alibi—what about you, missy?”

“Dan was all weird about being with a guy, so I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Damn it, that’s a good reason!” Ella groans. She turns to Decker, “Now I get how much you hate being last to know.” She sighs and takes Chloe’s hand, “I’m sorry, tonight was supposed to be about you, not your exes—well, you know what I mean.”

Chloe squeezes her hand, “It’s ok, Ella. And believe me; I was shocked when I first found out, too. But, weirdly enough, the more it sinks in, the more it makes sense.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Well, when Dan and I were together, I didn’t _know_ he had a repressed interest in men, but there were definitely signs that it could be a thing. That—and he told me he had a crush on Lucifer from, like, the beginning, which I can’t even claim I had. He had to grow on me. Anyway, Dan wasn’t comfortable with that part of himself at the time so it just made him angry—which, honestly, explains a lot.”

The forensic scientist shakes her head slowly, furrowing her thin brow. “My mind is totally blown right now.”

That gets Chloe to smile a little and then she continues. “But, it’s not that I have a problem with them dating or anything, it’s just…it feels unfair that it was so easy for them to make a connection when I felt like I was trying _so hard_ and nothing ever came of it. It’s like—why did I even bother, you know?”

“ _Totally_ been there,” Ella nods, patting Chloe on the shoulder. She blows out a sigh, “Well, I gotta hit the ladies room; those drinks are moving through me. You good?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks,” Chloe says. The moment Ella is out of sight and out of earshot, she twists her lips into a frown and whirls her head back to look at the other women. “Do you think we should tell her the truth?”

“NO!” they both snap.

Chloe pulls her head back. “Whoa, oh-kay,” she looks at Linda, “I get why you think it’s a bad idea, but,” she swivels to Maze, “why do you? Usually it’s not something you really care about.”

Maze twitches her head, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “She’s the only one of you who is actually a firm believer. It might really fuck her up.”

“What about Dan?” Chloe asks.

The demon frowns. “What about him?”

“He was raised Catholic, so he has a religious background. He doesn’t go to church, but—.”

“That’s just it though,” Maze counters. “Ella does— _and_ , she just got her faith back after having a breakdown, remember?”

Linda nods, “Maze is right, Chloe. This could be more traumatizing to her than it was for any of us.”

Chloe groans and puts her hands over her face. “You’re right.” She takes up her drink and sips. “I just—I hate to say it but, I think the only reason I’m keeping it together so well is because I have to censor myself around Ella. Is that weird?”

“ _Not at_ _all_ ,” the doctor says pointedly. “It just means that you know how to navigate through a crisis—even when it’s personal. That takes some real _guts_ , let me tell you!”

“Thanks, Linda.”

Just as Chloe finishes her drink, Ella returns to the group, pointing a finger gun her way. “I see someone’s run dry. You want another?”

“Maybe _after_ a glass of water!”

“I could probably use some, too,” Linda adds.

Maze snickers, “Lightweights. I’ll go grab us a pitcher.”

Ms. Lopez follows and nudges her with an elbow when they get to the bar. “You just wanna chat up that cute bartender, don’t you?”

“Psh, I already had him like, a month ago. Pretty decent lay, though. He’s available if you want him.”

Ella gasps softly and presses a hand to Maze’s arm. “Oh my gosh, you just gave me a great idea.” She motions with her head towards Chloe and then with her eyes towards the bartender approaching them. “Think you could uh, you know?” she bounces her eyebrows.

Maze’s teeth glint in the light as she grins. “Watch and learn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to offer some different perspective, if only for a single chapter.   
> I shall resume the focus back to Dan's side of things with the next installment!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the start of a new week. Dead body time. Some conversations. Also, Dan has another session with Linda.

Dan is plagued by worry when he drops Trixie off at school Monday morning. He makes sure to tell her he loves her, but keeps the mood light in case it might give her reason to think something is up. The last thing his kid needs right now is more parent drama.

If he and his ex-wife can continue to remain civil towards each other, then they can make things work with their daughter. He keeps reminding himself that Chloe would want it to be that way, no matter what. Still, his irrational fears have a tendency to be persistent.

When he gets to the precinct, Dan settles in at his desk, ready to get his day going. As he sips his coffee, he catches sight of Ella speed-walking in his direction. She looks determined about…something.

Before he can open his mouth, she slaps both hands on the desk, leans forward and spouts rapidly, “For the record: as your friend I think it’s totally awesome that you’re dating again and I’m super happy and proud of you that you’re coming out of your shell.” She points a finger at him. “But you tell that handsome jerk that he owes me _big time_ for not saying goodbye and making me worry about him—and that he should have told Chloe he was with you instead of making you be the middle man. _So_ not cool.”

After a pause, he creases his brow slowly. “Ok.”

“Great. I just—had to get that off my chest.” She gives an awkward, circular nod, and marches straight towards the lab.

A moment later, Chloe walks over to him after having seen the tail end of Ella’s little speech.

Dan holds his hands out, automatically launching into an angry parent whisper. “I thought she didn’t know?!”

Chloe responds in kind. “She _just_ knows you guys are dating.”

“Would’ve been nice to know what you told them so I could be prepared for—for _that_.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll send you a memo next time I drunkenly sob about how good you guys are together while my friends try to hook me up with a bartender almost half my age.”

“I mean I get—wait what?”

She sighs and leans back on the edge of his desk. “Maze and Ella thought if I got laid, that it might take my mind off of other things. Not that I don’t appreciate their intentions, but…I’m just not really into one-night stands.”

Dan continues to stare at her. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, but did you just say you think Lucifer and I are good together?”

“Well, I mean, I haven’t actually _seen_ you together, not like it’s possible anyway. But…I’ve had a lot of time to think—about everything. You really do seem better, Dan—happier, lighter. I can tell you really care about him. And, if what you said about Lucifer helping you is true, and this is the result of that? Then I imagine he must he pretty happy, too.”

He blinks wide. “Wow. This is definitely not how I pictured our next conversation going down.”

Chloe half-smiles and leans towards him. “Well maybe you should have a little more faith in me next time. You seem to have more than enough for Lucifer.”

Dan chuckles at that and then lets his face soften to a more serious look. “You’re right. You deserve more than I’ve ever given you credit for. I know I’ve already said it, but I’m still sorry for how I treated you with all this. And I know it’s not the same coming from me, but, Lucifer’s sorry, too.”

She nods and looks away. “Yeah, I know, I know he is. I’m still pissed at both of you.”

“You have every right to be.”

“And it’s going to take a while before that will change.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Chloe lets go of a sigh and gives him a smirk. “Now you’re making me feel like _I’m_ the asshole.”

“Why?”

“You being so agreeable is making it hard for me to stay mad at you.”

“Then don’t,” he shrugs.

She folds her arms across her chest and studies him somberly. “Do you think we ever could have made it work again?”

He maintains eye contact and doesn’t blink. “I don’t know.”

They both fall silent. He reaches out to take her hand, and she squeezes it. Neither of them seems able to say anything else. Perhaps it’s for the best.

The strained mood only lasts so long before Dan sees Lieutenant Field fast-approaching them. His usual friendly demeanor is absent and he looks all business.

“Decker, Espinoza—am I interrupting?”

Chloe does a quick shake of her head and detaches her hand from Dan’s to turn and face the lieutenant. “Uh, no, we were just talking.”

“Good. Just got a call out of Holmby Hills; sounds like it could be the work of your guy.”

Dan frowns, “How bad?”

“Bad enough I’m having a barricade set up that’ll cut off a block’s worth of Sunset. I’d prefer it if we carpooled to reduce our vehicle presence—traffic’s going to be a bitch to handle as it is. C’mon, I’ll fill you in on the way.”

~*~

By the time the three of them arrive, six patrol cars and a few dozen A-frame barricades outline the perimeter. There are officers on both sides of the lane that’s still open, doing their best to keep traffic moving.

Onlookers are everywhere, and while that isn’t a surprise, the amount of people present is significant. It’s the beginning of summer, and the crime scene just so happens to be across the street from a major tourist attraction, Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch. Half a dozen media vans are already trying desperately to get a shot at the action. The lieutenant was right to get this place locked down as soon as he could.

A gust of wind kicks up just as Zach hops out of the car and without wasting another moment, he checks in with the first responders. Dan and Chloe step out and squint, unprepared for the blustery weather.

While several officers keep gawkers and reporters from crowding along pinch points on the sidewalks, weirdly enough, the scene isn’t exactly visible to the naked eye.

This part of the boulevard has about half a mile’s worth of eight-foot tall laurel hedging. The densely packed, glossy green leaves look about as unassuming as anything, so when the detectives start to approach it, they’re not sure what they should be looking for.

As they come up to the curb, their jaws drop.

Body parts peek through the bushes like a scattered net of Christmas lights. At a distance, all the pieces look like pale dried leaves or paper trash, and strangely, there appears to be little or no blood anywhere, which only adds to the subtlety.

Dan gives a slow whistle and puts his hands on his hips. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

Chloe snaps on some gloves and pushes a few leaves out of the way to stare closely at part of an arm. “The bone has a really smooth cut.”

“You think it was an axe, maybe? Something that could chop it in one go?” he asks.

Before she answers, Ella pops up beside them, camera in hand. “Actually, my bet’s on a bone saw.” She points around the exposed part of the arm. “See this? The cut is totally clean. A weighted blade, like your standard murder axe, has enough force to cause splintering upon impact, even if you do it in only one pass. Bone saws, on the other hand, have teeth designed to be wide and deep, so debris can easily pass through and not disrupt the cutting.”

Chloe narrows her gaze. “So, does that mean the killer could have access to medical equipment?”

She shrugs. “Maybe, but it’s more likely that he just went to a butcher shop and picked one up for like, fifty bucks. Easy to come by and way harder to trace than medical equipment.”

Dan moves towards another group of the body parts, taking a closer look. “What about the lack of blood?”

Ella nods. “Dude was _definitely_ drained out before he got chopped up. Probably made it a lot easier to move everything without leaving a trail behind.”

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Dan asks. She gives him a look. He shivers, “Right, should have guessed.”

Zach walks up to them and addresses Ms. Lopez first. “What can you tell me, Ella?”

“Not a whole lot. You guys got here just after I did. So far, it’s just one vic, male, approximately mid-thirties, exsanguinated and dismembered post-mortem, and don’t quote me on this but I’m pretty sure there are no pieces missing.”

“Good work. Double check those pieces. There’s always a chance an animal could have run off with a snack before anyone noticed what was here.”

“You got it!”

He turns to the detectives. “A maintenance worker made the discovery while he was out here to trim the hedges this morning. Department of Public Works only does this section about once a year, so I’m inclined to think it’s not a coincidence that he was the one who made the discovery. Dan, you stay with me and we’ll canvass the area. Chloe, I’d like you to go down to D.P.W. and see if anyone directly sought out that info.” He hands her keys to the squad car they drove in.

“Sure, no problem,” she bobs her head. She turns to Dan, “I’ll call you if I find anything.”

“Ok,” he smiles halfheartedly.

When she’s out of earshot, Zach looks back at Dan. “All right: I’ll take the north blocks, you take the south. Meet back here when you’re done.”

“I’m on it."

~*~

While the blocks cover a lot of ground, the neighborhood is quite wealthy, so there are only five houses for Dan to canvass.

Two people own dogs that were walked through the area this morning. They both are confident that their pets eat a very strict diet and would never eat something off the ground. Dan thinks they’re full of shit, but he lets it go. If one of the dogs _did_ end up eating something, either Ella will find out or the owners will find out soon enough.

All of the residents state that other than their neighbors, the only people they see out in the early morning are the homeless, shuffling with shopping carts. It’s a really common thing to see and they brush it off as a nuisance.

But immediately, it gives Dan an idea. He inquires a little deeper about the homeless people—any distinguishing characteristics, out of the ordinary details that might come to mind. No one is very helpful in that regard.

On top of that, nothing suspicious has been witnessed at all in the last twenty-four hours or even the last week. Disappointing, but also not really a surprise. He didn’t think he’d catch a break that easily.

When he gets back to the crime scene, he sees Ella sitting cross-legged on the curb, one hand holding a foot in an evidence bag while her other hand is writing something down in a bright blue notepad across her knee. “How’s it coming?”

She glances up at him and then looks at the pieces all bagged up around her. “Well, I did a quick sketch to plot out all the pieces—looks like he’s all here.”

“That’s a relief. Any closer to determining cause of death?”

“Best guess is that his neck was broken, but until I get an x-ray I can’t be sure, The minor contusions I found could be a result of how he was decapitated.”

Dan squats down and runs his gaze across the objects in the bags. “We get an ID yet?”

She pulls out her phone and scrolls through. “Yeah—Marc Singer, thirty-six, super sexy doctor legit based out of Beverly Hills.”

He laughs, “I’m surprised you can say that considering he’s in pieces.” Ms. Lopez holds up her phone to show him the DMV license photo. Dan leans forward and his eyes widen. “ _Damn_.”

“I know, right?” she looks down at the bagged up, meaty pile and shakes her head, “Bet he would have killed it on _The Bachelor_.”

“So he lived alone?”

“Yep—no emergency contacts and I looked at his Insta—dude was a serious player. But when you look like that, it’s pretty easy.”

“You get his home address?”

“Yeah, I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks, Ella,” he says. He stands up just in time to see Field walking over to him. “Hey, any luck on your end?”

“Some,” he motions for Dan to follow him towards one of the squad cars. They fall instep side by side. “Several of the residents I spoke to mentioned the homeless having a pretty strong presence. I suspect our guy posed as one and used a shopping cart to transport the dismembered parts.”

“I thought that, too! Ella gave me an address for the vic, his place is only a few miles away, maybe the killer did the dirty work at the house and then rolled everything down here.”

They approach the squad and car get in, Zach on the driver’s side. “Where’re we headed?”

“Beverly Hills, believe it or not.”

“Perfect! I’ve been meaning to check out that area—there’s a few buildings I’ve always wanted to see.” He pulls out of the barricade and onto the road.

Dan glances at him, “You a big fan of architecture?”

“I find it fascinating how building design has evolved over the centuries and in different parts of the world.” Zach grins, “Did I ever tell you that I’m great at parties?”

That gets a chuckle out of both of them.

Dan mentions, “I know a building you’d probably be interested in. I’ll have to show you sometime. It has a _very_ diverse history.”

“I’d like that,” Field says.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, and then Zach decides to switch gears. “You know, I hope you don’t mind, but I got the sense that you and your partner needed some breathing room away from each other. That’s why I had you guys split up.”

Dan shrugs. “We _did_ cover more ground this way. Sorry if we made a scene at the station, we’re usually really good at keeping our personal business under wraps.”

Zach shakes his head. “I’m not concerned about that. I’ve seen how you two interact—you definitely have marital, or rather, ex-marital subtleties down to a science. I just want to make sure that whatever’s going on doesn’t affect you both to the point that you can no longer work together. You guys are a good team; I’d hate to see that fall apart.”

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate that. No, it’s…it’s complicated, but I think it’ll be ok,” he nods, more to himself than to the man beside him. “Thank you though, for the breathing room. Sometimes we don’t even realize we need it.”

“Anytime,” Zach smiles.

~*~

Sure enough, when they get to Marc Singer’s house, their suspicions prove correct. While doing a pass around the place, Dan espies through a window a _lot_ of blood around the kitchen sink. Field kicks the door in easily, making a joke about never missing leg day, and they enter the house.

Nothing readily looks out of place until they make it to the kitchen. There are blood smears on the tile floor. Ella’s assumption that the killer wears painter’s clothes and booties is probably spot-on, considering that the smears look like they were caused by some sort of slippers. Interestingly, there are no stains outside of the kitchen—which suggests that the killer also brought an extra pair to wear out of the house.

Zach makes his way over towards the sink, examining the long stone countertop to the left of it. There is a fair amount of dried blood, some scrapes in the granite, and more blood inside the left side of the sink. “Looks like he drained him over here.”

Dan takes notice that the right side of the sink has significantly less blood splatters in and around it. “I think he rinsed off each piece, too. It would explain why there was no trail near the hedges. Man, this guy’s fucked up.”

A cold look fills the lieutenant’s eyes. His jaw tightens. In a low rasp, he says, “I’ll make sure he burns for this.”

He looks at Field curiously. Carefully, Dan offers, “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“They always do when I come for them,” he replies distantly.

“Have there been any cases you couldn’t solve, Zach?”

His mouth twitches, “Only one,” he gravels. He takes a deep breath. “But I already told you about that.”

“Your mom,” Dan says, nodding. “You don’t think something like this could have happened to her, do you?”

Lieutenant Field relaxes and lets go of a sigh, smiling. “No. She’s a tough gal—I have faith that wherever she is, she’s at least in one piece.”

“I’m really sorry you’re going through that. I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

“Let’s hope you never have to. C’mon, let’s go see if we can find that bone saw!”

~*~

They find a few more drops of what could be blood just outside the house, though samples will have to be taken to confirm it. They don’t find the bone saw. The lieutenant calls in a crew to sweep the house, and he and Dan do another round of canvassing in the victim’s neighborhood.

Finally, things start looking up. One neighbor claimed they saw a man leaving the house the night before. The neighbor was certain it wasn’t Singer because the Beverly Hills doctor had a slender build, and the mysterious man had noticeably broader shoulders and looked taller. They didn’t get a good look at his face, or his hair color.

Not long after that, Chloe calls Dan to report that she had a bit of success too. A tall, white man, approximately mid-forties, with blue eyes and wearing a baseball cap came into the Department of Public Works two weeks ago. He asked how often city maintenance was done in certain neighborhoods. He had used Marc Singer’s name and address as part of his cover story.

Dan and Chloe both feel like it suddenly seems too easy, considering how careful the killer has been thus far. But, even with the details they have now, narrowing down the search still proves to be difficult, as Zach points out. If their guy is in fact a cop, or even an ex-cop, that description fits _a_ _lot_ of profiles, especially since they have no idea about hair color or any other distinguishing marks.

Back at the precinct, Ella confirms that the cause of death was cervical fracture. She also finds trace amounts of the same heroin that’s been used to tranquilize the other victims, despite the fact that Marc Singer was exsanguinated. Sample tests confirmed that the blood smears from the kitchen floor contained laminate material commonly found in disposable coveralls.

While it’s nice to have the information confirmed, somehow it doesn’t feel like they’re any closer to solving the case.

Zach helps the detectives go through a stack of possibilities, and together the three of them compile a list of suspects. They try to narrow it down where they can without ruling out anyone that fits the physical description. It’s a long, slow process, and Dan is grateful that he has an actual time-sensitive obligation that prevents him from having to work overtime tonight.

Chloe and Lieutenant Field are still working on things when Dan gathers his stuff to head out. He waves goodbye to both of them and hops in his car to go to his appointment.

~*~

Dan arrives at Linda’s office just in time for her to come out and invite him in. “Hey, Dan.”

“Hey.” He sits down on the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Long day?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He rubs his hands over his face. When he looks at her, he huffs a laugh. “Should I even act like you don’t already know what’s been going on?”

The doctor shrugs, “Technically speaking, I shouldn’t even be seeing you. With all of the social relationships we share, I’m _clearly_ not impartial. But, ethical standards aside, I suppose I feel—responsible, for anyone directly involved in Lucifer’s life. I mean, who better to help make sense of the Devil than the Devil’s therapist?”

Dan chuckles, “Good point.”

“That being said,” Linda smiles, “I probably don’t know as much as you think. So, let me start by asking you: how are things going with Lucifer?”

Dan considers how much he can and should tell her. He promised Lucifer he wouldn’t tell anyone about the soul-bonding. With all the unexpected things that keep happening because of it, he recognizes the need to keep a lid on it until they understand it better. That doesn’t mean that he can’t tell her just how serious things have become.

A smile curves on his lips and he averts his gaze a little bashfully. “Good. Really good, actually. It’s almost weird how good things are.”

“Tell me more,” she says gently.

He shakes his head, “I don’t know, it’s like…when you struggle with a problem and no matter what angle you approach it from, nothing seems to work. And then, something just _clicks_ , and you’re left wondering what made it so hard in the first place. I hated him for so long, but once my feelings for him started changing…it’s like _everything_ changed.”

Dr. Martin considers him for a moment and then asks, “Do you think it has anything to do with the fact that he’s not human?”

Dan scrunches his brow and actually takes a second to think about that. He and Lucifer have definitely been messing around with cosmic stuff that he doesn’t fully comprehend. Even Lucifer’s been surprised by some of it. But in the beginning, he knows something was developing between them without any celestial intervention. At least, he thinks he can tell the difference.

“No, I don’t think it does,” he answers thoughtfully. “In fact, I think I felt this way even before I stopped hating him.”

She nods slowly. “Last week, you told me that when you started thinking about Lucifer in a romantic way, it made you upset. It seemed less about him being _Lucifer_ , and more about him being a _man_. Had you been more comfortable with your sexuality when you first met, do you think things would have been different between you two?”

He shrugs. “I probably would’ve still hated him, but not because I was attracted to him.”

“Because you and Chloe were still trying to fix your marriage at the time and he threatened that.”

“Yeah. But had that not been a factor?” A flush creeps up in his cheeks and he grins. “I think things _definitely_ would have been different between us. He uh, he’s my type.”

Linda raises her brow, “Oh?”

“I didn’t even realize I had one; Chloe pointed it out to me.”

The doctor smiles at that. Then her face softens and she asks carefully, “And how are things with Chloe?”

Dan swallows and worry riddles his brow. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

Delicately, Linda insists, “Say more about that.”

He hesitates at first. Not because he doesn’t want to talk about it or because he’s concerned about what she may think. But he’s afraid to admit anything out loud, like it’s not real until he voices it.

Gradually, he lays out the complicated mess that has become his relationship with his ex-wife. The not-so-subtle hints she was dropping, the sex, how it led to him going on a little fight-bender with Maze, how things between him and Lucifer got steadily more serious, how he feels he screwed that up by sleeping with Chloe a second time before telling her anything, and ultimately how terrified he was that he might tear his family apart because of that.

Talking about all of it makes Dan angry at himself. Privately, he feels he’s been doing a lot better since Lucifer had literally _blessed_ him. But bringing his recent fuck-ups to light seems to erode something inside him. It’s like his mind is making room to let the darkness back in.

Linda picks up on this. She steers him away from sinking into self-loathing by pointing out that it’s important to acknowledge some exceptions need to be made for this situation.

It’s enough to shake Dan out of his own head and he frowns. “What kind of exceptions?”

The doctor straightens up in her seat. “Dan, while you’ve been dealing with these issues, the entire scope of your reality has been shifted thanks to learning the truth about the divine and the infernal. Take it from me, not just as your therapist, or your friend, but as another human being that’s been through this: there’s an adjustment period. What I’m saying is: I think you should consider that you’re under a specific type of stress that _no one_ is accustomed to dealing with, so it’s understandable that your sense of judgment and reasoning might be unstable right now.”

A shadow of his old rage threatens to spill out of him and lash out to tell her she’s wrong. And yet, what she says makes far too much sense to ignore. It also brings up something he hasn’t told anyone yet, not even Lucifer.

“I’ve been having trouble conceptualizing time ever since Lucifer started appearing in my dreams.”

She opens her mouth to say something and then pauses. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“Amenadiel told me when angels deliver messages to us in our sleep; they permeate our subconscious to such a degree that when we remember it, it’s supposed to feel like it really happened, not like we dreamed it. It’s like that with Lucifer, only we spend what feels like hours, sometimes days together. So when I wake up…”

Dr. Martin nods. “It’s hard for you to adjust to normal time again.”

“Do you think it could be adding to the stress?”

She scoffs, not even trying to sugarcoat her answer. “ _Absolutely_. In fact, it could be having a significant impact on your sleep cycle, too. I’m not a neurologist, so don’t quote me on that. But I think it’s worth paying attention to. You might consider keeping a journal. Jot down how much sleep you got, how long it took for you to adjust from unconscious time to conscious time, see if there are any correlations.”

Dan smirks, “I’m not much of a journal person but I’ll keep that in mind. I think it gets a bit easier every day, but it’s been weird.”

“I can only imagine! But, real talk: you’ve been going through _a lot_ in a very short amount of time, Dan—you’re allowed to feel off-balance.”

He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Still feels like I fucked up.”

“Of course, that’s natural. But by confronting that behavior now, you’ll be able to identify it in the future and recognize how to move away from it before it causes harm to anyone, including yourself.” She considers him for a bit, and then asks, “How did Chloe react when you told her everything?”

Dan’s gaze flicks away for a second before looking back at her. “For the most part, she handled it a lot better than I expected she would…”

Linda squints, recognizing his trail-off. “…but?”

“I think I actually made things worse between us at the last minute.”

“How so?”

He draws in his lower lip under his teeth and shakes his head. “I told her Lucifer can hear my thoughts when I pray to him. Of course, she was upset that he couldn’t hear hers, too. I tried to explain why I thought that was by making the mistake of telling her that she’s a miracle.” He rolls his eyes and looks away, “Guess that wasn’t my secret to tell.”

She draws in a breath and then leans forward slightly, “What happened when you told her?”

He fights back the bitterness he feels about the memory. He doesn’t want to make Chloe out to be the bad guy. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s hurt by what happened, and he’s only realizing now just how much it really bothered him.

Lucifer’s voice echoes in his mind.

 _She tricked you_.

 _She used you to get to me_.

“Dan?” Linda draws his attention back. “What happened when you told her?”

He sits up straight and blows out a sigh, popping his neck. “She asked me if I could send him a message for her. When I started praying, she slapped me, in an effort to do the same to him.” Suddenly, his anger rises. “You know, yeah—I get it—I deserved it for all the shit I put her though, and sure, he did too, for keeping the truth from her the way he did.”

“Then why are you upset—?”

“—because this was different!” he snaps.

Dan scowls and looks away, frustrated. He takes a few deep breaths. His tone is still heated, but he refrains from shouting. “She used me to hurt him. I keep telling myself that she didn’t know what she was doing. But I can’t shake this feeling that it changes things between us somehow. We’ve gone through so much together, and we always bounce back. But this…” he shakes his head.

Linda presses her lips together and tilts her head to the side. “Do you think if Chloe understood what praying to Lucifer meant to you that she would have handled the situation differently?”

“See, that’s the part that gets me. I’m not so sure she would, and I hate that that’s even a possibility in my mind.”

“Because you still love her.”

“Of course I do, that’s why this hurts so fucking much!”

The doctor glances at the clock and then looks back to him. “Ok, first, just to make sure I got this right: praying to Lucifer is something you and he can _actually_ both feel? It’s not just psychological, there’s a physical response?”

“It’s not just in my head, Linda,” he says dryly. “Sorry, it’s just, after Chloe, I feel a little paranoid talking about it.”

She gives a single nod, “Totally fair. I only ask because I have an idea I’m hoping you’d be willing to try. I think you need to ask Chloe for an apology.”

He shrugs. “I already told her that she can’t do that again.”

Linda holds out her hand. “That’s good, it’s important to establish your boundaries in a clear, direct way. But it’s equally important for others to understand _why_ you have those boundaries. Maybe, if she had a better understanding of what’s important to you, she’d have an easier time understanding what you’re going through.”

“What if she doesn’t want to hear it?”

“You said yourself that you two have been through a lot and bounced back every time. This time might feel different, but that just might be because it’s new, not because it’s something so severe that it will destroy the friendship you two have.”

Dan manages a grin. “You’re so good at making sense. How do you do that?”

Linda laughs and shrugs. “It is _literally_ what I’m paid to do.” She stands up and they walk to the door. “But it doesn’t mean you should take it any less seriously.”

He smiles softly. “I know. Thank you.”

“Have a good night, Dan.”

“You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all still enjoying this adventure. Next chapter will have some comfier moments, I swear. Cuddles and cuteness and probably angst, because I can't seem to stop myself XD


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Amenadiel have hangouts! Lots of interesting info. Then Dan gets lonely, so you all know what that means...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan says a few sentences in Spanish. The translation in English is at the end of the chapter, courtesy of Google Translate.  
> I hope for the sake of the story's tone and Dan's romantic side that this is a welcome bit. I apologize for any inaccuracies and I hope it's not out of bounds, but it just felt like something he would do in a different tongue, so I went with it.

**_Amenadiel (7:03pm):_** Hello Dan. I was wondering if you were available this evening to talk about the research you asked me to do.

 ** _Dan Espinoza (7:39pm):_** Sure. I could meet you somewhere. You hungry?

 ** _Dan Espinoza (7:40pm):_** Do angels even need food?

 ** _Amenadiel (7:41pm):_** Technically no. But it is a very full-filling experience ;)

 ** _Dan Espinoza (7:41pm):_** I see Dad jokes are universal, lol.

 ** _Amenadiel (7:43pm):_** Actually, my Father didn’t come up with that, I did!

 ** _Dan Espinoza (7:44pm):_** Not what I meant, I’ll explain later. You familiar with Canter’s?

 ** _Amenadiel (7:46pm):_** Yes! I will meet you there.

 ** _Dan Espinoza (7:46pm):_** Great, see you soon.

~*~

After his appointment with Linda, Dan had gone straight to the gym. So when he meets up with Amenadiel at the restaurant, he’s _starving_. Amenadiel is just excited because he likes the food, so they grab a few pastries before sitting down.

Dan bites into a pineapple and cheese danish and his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Man, these things have no right to be this delicious.”

Amenadiel nods at him over a mouthful of his cherry and cheese danish. “They’re amazing, right?”

“ _So_ damn good.” He takes a few more bites and then casually asks, “So you guys really don’t have to eat?”

“Physical matter, no. But there’s more to what I said about the _experience_ of enjoying food as being fulfilling.”

Dan considers that for a moment. He thinks about what Lucifer told him, how a soul responds to sensations. Lucifer seeks as many sensations as he can, almost like he’s hungry for them.

And just like that, the Devil’s lust for life makes even more sense than it did before. He’s surprised he hadn’t thought of it until now. “You feed off of experiences.”

“We gain _nourishment_ from everything existence has to offer,” Amenadiel corrects.

That brings a smile to Dan’s face and he leans back against the headboard of the booth. “So in celestial terms, would you say Lucifer’s the chubby kid in the family?”

Amenadiel bursts into laughter, “ _Definitely._ He never missed an opportunity to be the first to try something new. He wanted it all—and he knew exactly how to get it. In fact, that’s how the whole deal thing got started.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hmm. He figured out early that if he appealed to our desires, he could fulfill his own. We made it easy for him, too. Most of us took the development of life on Earth for granted; not Luci. He knew it was something special.”

Dan gives him a thoughtful look. “Well you know it now, too. It just took a little longer.”

The big man smiles warmly. “So, how are things between you and my brother?”

“Honestly? Really good,” Dan pauses and creases his brow, “why? What’d you find out?”

He holds up his hands. “Oh, it’s—it’s not bad news. In fact, I’m really happy to hear that you and he are working out,” he nods rapidly.

Dan huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “Man, you are _terrible_ with subtlety.”

“I’m serious!”

At that moment, they’re interrupted by their server. They order and a few minutes later then they’re alone again. The silence between them starts to feel a little prolonged.

Dan sighs and urges, “So tell me what you found.” Already he’s starting to feel a little nervous. He tries to keep it contained.

Amenadiel takes a drink from his water glass and gives Dan a curious look. “What answer are you hoping for?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Dan scoffs. “Really? Is it that bad?”

“I never said it was bad. Work with me here.”

He sighs and shrugs. “Nothing, I guess—as weird as that sounds. I don’t know; Lucifer’s paranoia is probably getting to me. I don’t want to end up finding out I’m a miracle like Chloe.”

“Otherwise it wouldn’t feel like it was your choice,” the angel nods.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Well, the good news is that you’re definitely not a miracle. That was my department, but, just in case, I did some digging, even asked around. Your birth wasn’t blessed by anyone, as far as I can tell.”

“Ok, then what’s the bad news?”

Amenadiel makes a horizontal swiping motion with his hands, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? What do you mean, ‘nothing’?”

“After everything I did in researching your situation, all the books and scrolls, the people I consulted, I found absolutely _nothing_ to compare it to. Just like with my son.”

Dan blinks at him. “So you’re saying this is a first? That me being a magnet for the supernatural and having a talent for prayer is all just a coincidence?”

“I know it’s what you said you were hoping for, but I know it’s also—.”

“—a little weird,” Dan nods.

Amenadiel leans forward, his tone excited but hushed. “When I found out I was going to be a father, it was the most incredible feeling. Linda was overwhelmed when she learned it was a first in all of history, and it’s taken me a while to truly understand why. Researching your situation helped me to put it together. I’ve seen lots of firsts in my lifetime, but most humans go their entire lives without witnessing the emergence of a new thing like that. It can be a real shock. That’s why I was concerned about telling you what I found, or rather didn’t find.”

A small smile curves on Dan’s lips. “I appreciate that. But, Lucifer and I have racked up _a lot_ of firsts as it is, and I haven’t lost my mind yet, so I guess I’m not surprised that I’m not…surprised.”

Before the angel can reply, the server returns with their food. Amenadiel ordered a hot pastrami sandwich with kettle chips and a banana milkshake. Dan ordered the sweet and sour stuffed beef cabbage and sticks to drinking water.

The moment the food is in front of them, talking is swiftly replaced with the sounds of clinking silverware and the veracity of hearty appetites.

It doesn’t take very long before they both clear their plates and settle back in their seats. While fiddling with a napkin, Amenadiel resumes the conversation.

“My Father has always been very selective when it comes to giving humans divine attention. It’s seldom enough it’s easy to keep track of, by angel standards. And despite my brother’s rebellious nature, he has his moments where he takes his job seriously. Even before he banned possession, real instances of demonic interference were surprisingly infrequent. There are lots of accounts throughout history where people claim association with divine or infernal forces, but it’s actually a lot rarer than you’d think.”

Dan nods at him. “You’re saying that it would have been pretty easy to track down other people like me if they existed.” He scrunches his brow. “Does your Dad follow some kind of schedule? I mean, would there be a reason why this is all happening _now_ as opposed to…some other point in history?”

Amenadiel grins and shakes his head. “New things come into existence all the time, Dan, whether you’re aware of them or not. And that’s precisely my point! I think the reason you attract celestials and demons, why you have a gift for prayer, is all because of everything that makes you, well, _you_. Before you were born, the right combination of spirit and personality just hadn’t existed yet.”

He’s touched by that, but somehow, even with everything else he’s experienced, the thought still comes across as being almost too surreal to wrap his head around. He jokes, “So I’m a snowflake, is that what you’re telling me?”

The angel blinks at him and then nods slowly. “Actually, that’s a really good way to put it. Yes, Dan, you are a snowflake,” he smiles at him.

Dan starts to laugh. “No, I mean—ok, usually, it’s a derogatory term for someone who has an exaggerated sense of uniqueness or who is overly sensitive. I dunno, maybe that’s a bad analogy. What I _meant_ to say is _no one_ is that special.”

“Oh. Well, no, the analogy still works,” he insists gently. “Think of it another way—take clouds, for example.”

“Clouds? Really?”

Amenadiel gives him a look. “Hear me out: all clouds are created by conditions that manipulate particles in a specific way, just like snowflakes, right? But no two clouds, or snowflakes, are exactly alike. You and Chloe are humans, Lucifer and I are angels, but we’re different from each other. The point is: you _are_ that special, Dan. We all are.”

He chuckles, “Your optimism kills me, man. But I guess I don’t really have any right to question the word of an angel, so, thanks for the compliment.”

Amenadiel beams at him as he raises his glass. “You’re welcome. Now try not to let it go to your head.”

“Too late for that,” Dan grins.

~*~

They spend the rest of their evening chatting over lots of coffee. Dan makes sure to stick to decaf the whole time.

Amenadiel is enjoying fatherhood but discovering just how complicated babies are. Apparently, his son did not inherit the angelic ability to prevent him from needing food, which means that he also has bowels that need constant attention. Dan assures him that part gets easier in a few years.

It prompts him to ask the angel what life was like for him as a child, to which Amenadiel awkwardly explains that celestial development is _very_ different.

He talks about masses of energy forming into concentrated bursts of sentience, and how consciousness and individuality take time, but all angels and demons come out fully formed from the moment they’re created.

Humans don’t, only because they were God’s solo project. He drew from different materials instead of co-creating them with His wife. It’s a large part of the reason they had a falling out in the first place.

While that’s sad to hear, at the same time, Dan is grateful that he doesn’t have any ancestral ties to the Goddess of All Creation. The last thing he needs is a watered down oedipal complex.

Out of curiosity, he asks about Her. He learns that Lucifer _literally_ cut a hole in time and space so She could have her own universe. The information is daunting, to put it mildly. But, even though She was a pain in the ass at times, Dan knows he developed some feelings for Her. He’s comforted by the knowledge that She isn’t dead or back in Hell, like he’d assumed.

It’s a little after ten when the two call it quits for the night. Dan has a mid-shift tomorrow, so being out late isn’t a concern, but Amenadiel has to get home so he can take care of Charlie and let Linda get some sleep.

~*~

By the time Dan gets to his place, he’s pretty tired, but something prevents him from settling down right away. He wanders into the kitchen, taking mental note of everything he’s running low on. He doesn’t feel like doing a grocery run. He misses cooking for someone else.

He looks at the living room, stares at the couch for a moment, and then walks into his bedroom. He stares at the pillows, remembering when Lucifer was actually there, in his bed, right beside him. A sigh escapes his nostrils.

Yep, it’s official: he misses Lucifer.

Maze would probably call him a big sap right about now and he’d have absolutely no room to argue.

Dan considers his options for all of two seconds before grabbing a duffle bag to load up some clothes and toiletries. He makes sure everything in his place is switched off except for the kitchen light, latches the windows and then locks the door behind him.

~*~

The elevator _dings_ and Dan steps out of the lift and into the penthouse, immediately letting go a sigh of relief.

He sent Maze a text before heading over, making sure she wasn’t using the place. Her response: _You are allowed exactly two of my coconut green teas._ Man, he loves how easy it is to communicate with her.

Dan slips into some sweatpants and a t-shirt and helps himself to a little whiskey. He steps outside onto the balcony and leans over the railing, thinking to himself.

Its weird how just being here makes him feel a little closer to him. It’s weird how swiftly he’s adapted to everything in the last week. He wonders what would have happened if Lucifer never appeared to him in his dreams that night. How different things would be now.

He and Chloe would probably be trying to rekindle something. Or would they? Even without Lucifer being part of the equation, Dan knows he still would’ve come to the conclusion that he was a rebound for her, and the thought puts a bad taste in his mouth. Then again, he wouldn’t have fucked up so hard, either, because he wouldn’t have had any secrets.

Well, he’d still be privately wrestling with the idea that he swings both ways, that’s for sure. And he’d still be harboring a lot of anger towards Lucifer, and ultimately, himself.

He still worries about what the future will hold for him and his ex-wife. He’s certain that he’s caused irreparable damage to their friendship. He’s also a little haunted by how badly she was able to hurt Lucifer through him. It unsettles him to his core.

Linda is right that it’s important to establish boundaries, and for that, he definitely will consider asking for an apology from Chloe. But it wouldn’t have happened in the first place had he not been a fucking idiot and no one can convince him otherwise. He was cowardly and it cost him, end of story. He hopes that behavior is finally behind him. Only time will tell.

Dan finishes his drink and heads back inside.

While brushing his teeth, he gives the luxurious bathtub a long gaze and considers taking advantage of it tomorrow. Either that or the hot tub. Maybe both.

He strips down to his boxer briefs and slips beneath the covers, appreciating the fantastic silkiness of the sheets on his skin. Even this, indirectly, makes him feel a little closer to Lucifer.

He rolls onto his side and stares at the empty pillows beside him. This bed is clearly big enough to accommodate a foursome—which—yeah, that officially makes it an orgy-sized bed.

Dan wonders what it’s like to be in an orgy. He’s not sure he could do it without feeling awkward about negotiating who gets to do what where. He’s surprised at himself for not immediately getting uncomfortable about the idea. It makes him wonder if there’s more to his sexuality than he’d previously thought.

He lets these musings run through his mind freely, and feels an insistent strain pressing against the inside of his underwear. He’s tempted to go for it, but he’s also worried about ruining the bed sheets.

But this is Lucifer’s bedroom. There’s got to be _something_ around here…

Rifling through the large nightstand drawers yields more than enough options and suddenly Dan’s on a curiosity binge.

There are tissues, hand towels, a few porn magazines from different decades (all in great condition), condoms, lubes (some flavored), cock rings, vibrators, dildos in several colors, shapes and sizes, nipple clamps, candles, handcuffs, feathers, a length of silvery, delicate chain, some sort of electric rod with a slender glass bulb attached to it, leather cuffs, a gold box full of party drugs (Dan’s just going to pretend he didn’t see those), a leather dog collar and a chain leash, black rope, a sleep mask, a clown mask (that’s unexpected), and a thousand bucks in crisp twenties.

The first time Dan had gone through this room, he’d glanced in these drawers and quickly left them be. He’d skimmed over the sex closet, too, but now he feels compelled to give it a closer look.

Whips, floggers, leather and latex outfits (for multiple body types), paddles, more rope, bigger dildos, some bottles of wine, harnesses, more lube, about a dozen different types of gloves (one pair even has metal claws on the fingertips), duct tape (or what looks like it), some riding crops, a set of eight tapered steel bars in varying sizes, a bag full of medical equipment and supplies, and, of all things, a bright white towel that’s as long as he is tall. At first it seems out of place, but its super soft and feels soothing to hold, so he definitely gets the appeal of it.

By the time Dan’s thoroughly explored everything, he’s all kinds of horny and curious and damn it, he wishes now more than ever that Lucifer could be here.

Eager to see him, but way too pent up to go to sleep just yet, Dan grabs a hand towel and some lube and decides to make quick work of his frustration. He’s worked up enough he knows he won’t last long, and right now, that’s exactly how he wants it.

Within minutes, he’s right on the brink, his breathing shallow, his eyes screwed shut. There’s no real narrative to any of what goes on in his head, just images that flash one after another.

_Grinding._

_Choking._

_Kissing._

_Teeth._

_Lucifer._

A familiar, magnetic sensation creeps through his body and opens up the link they share. A small jolt, like an interlocking sensation, snaps through him and he gasps. In his mind’s eye, Lucifer is at the center of it all, looking Devilish and beautiful and so damn fuckable Dan just wants to—.

He comes hard into the hand towel, biting the corner of his lip with a rough groan, eking out every last drop.

He lies still for a bit, letting his breathing and his pulse return to normal. He balls up the towel and tosses it into a laundry basket that is across the room.

There’s a faint feeling beside his sense of release that echoes amusement but also unspent frustration. Looks like he’ll have to do some explaining after he falls asleep.

He smiles dopily and rolls onto his side to settle beneath the sheets once more. His eyes glaze over the untouched pillows. On a whim, he reaches over and grabs one and pulls it against his chest.

Dan feels a little silly for doing it, but it’s not like anyone can see him cuddling a pillow right now, so he stops worrying and exhales tiredly. It doesn’t take long before drowsiness floods through him and he’s out like a light.

~*~

“You just couldn’t contain yourself, could you, Daniel?”

Lucifer is sitting in an armchair in the corner of the bedroom, holding something in his hands. He’s wearing an expertly tailored black suit with a dark burgundy tie and pocket square to match. The look in his eyes is hungry, but controlled.

Dan moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He licks his lips and gives Lucifer a bashful smile. “You felt that, huh?”

He grins at him, “Every stroke all the way to the finish line. And judging by the extent of what your imagination conjured up, I’d say someone had himself quite the little tour around my bedroom recently.”

“Are you upset about that?”

“Quite the opposite, actually, I’ve had some ideas in mind for a while now. I’m happy to see that we’re on the same page.”

A light shrug lifts Dan’s shoulders. “Maybe, I realized there’s still a lot I have left to learn about myself—sexually, I mean.”

Lucifer arches one of his eyebrows. “Is that something you’d be interested in exploring tonight?”

“Definitely.”

“Wonderful! But first, satisfy a small curiosity of mine. Are you actually in the penthouse right now?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

If Dan could blush, he would. He doesn’t think it shows up in these dreams the way it would normally. He swallows and says softly, “I missed you.”

Lucifer loses his steel composure and his expression softens into a sweet smile. It only lasts for a moment before it returns to a cool mask once more. “It’s not fair if you kill the mood I’m trying to build by being so bloody endearing.”

Dan grins, “I can’t help it. I’m happy to see you.”

“That’s precisely what I hope to correct.” He stands up and lets a black sleep mask dangle from his hand, “If you’ll allow me?”

“Two questions,” Dan says, standing up.

“Ask.”

“Will wearing that disorient my mind in some way?”

The Devil considers that for a second before answering. “I shouldn’t think so. Dream-rules still apply so you can remove it anytime you need to. Next question?”

“Can I get a kiss first?”

Lucifer smiles and leans in, “So greedy, Daniel,” he purrs.

Dan smiles back, “You love it.”

“I do,” Lucifer replies. He’s exceptionally careful not to touch any part of his body to Dan’s except for his mouth.

Even so, the moment they touch, the gravity-like pull between them is no less persistent or intense. Both men inhale sharply when they kiss, and Dan can tell that Lucifer’s actually putting forth some effort to keep from touching him.

When he finally manages to pull a way, he’s a little out of breath and his eyes are glowing.

Dan wants to tell him that he looks especially hot like this—beautiful, even—but he thinks now is not the time and he’s not sure if Lucifer would agree with him. “You’re having a hard time containing yourself, too, aren’t you?”

A flash of something lustful flits across his crimson gaze. He snarls softly, “You have no idea.”

“Show me then,” he offers, and closes his eyes, standing straight.

Dan feels the soft fabric of the blindfold slip over his face. A sudden stillness surrounds him, like the air going out of the room, or a pressure change, even though that shouldn’t be possible. At least, he’s pretty sure it’s not possible.

Firm steps move behind him. He can sense Lucifer is very close to his left ear, but he can’t feel the heat of his breath. He wishes he could.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” the Devil begins. “I recall when you saw my wings and witnessed my—divine inebriation. Tell me: in that moment, what went through your mind?”

Dan frowns. “You know the answer to that.”

A faint tremor of their magnetic connection radiates behind him. The tip of something sharp grazes over the back of his shoulder. He twitches, surprised and excited that he could sense a little pain from that.

“Tell me what you thought, not what you told me.”

An audible gulp escapes Dan’s throat. “I was creeped out by how serene you were acting, but you looked happier than I’ve ever seen you before. I knew it was because of something I did, which felt good and bad, because I know how you feel about that side of yourself. That—and your wings looked fucking awesome.”

There’s a pause. It makes Dan wonder if he made Lucifer smile or frown. He can’t be sure of either.

Another rush of their connection narrows towards the top of his back. Five points set into his skin. Not enough to pierce, but enough to feel them scrape as they glide down his spine. A shudder forces its way through his body and a shaky sigh escapes his lips.

Lucifer’s tone comes softer this time. “And our second night together, where you saw my Devil face; what went through your mind then?”

He smiles at that. “I felt I owed Maze a steak dinner.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Before I saw you, she showed up and surprised me a few times with her other face. By the time I saw yours all I could think about was how grateful I was that she toughened me up, because I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it.”

Lucifer doesn’t try to hide his irritation. “Mazikeen, that little beast, popping your monster-cherry before I could get a crack at it—.”

“—I thought you didn’t like being a monster?” Dan cuts in curiously.

“It’s the principle of the thing, Daniel. I’m the Devil; getting upstaged by a demon is like a tart outclassing the Queen.” He sighs and says more patiently, “But enough about that. I’ll rephrase my question. What went through your mind when you saw my face, apart from your gratitude for Maze?”

Dan enjoys not being able to see what Lucifer is doing or where he is while he thinks about the question. He really wants to know what’s been touching his back, but he’s having fun imagining what it could be, too.

He smirks when he finally comes to an answer. “I’ve heard you brag about being the Devil for like, four years. I guess when I finally saw you like that, aside from the initial shock, it was just like finally putting a face to a name. It made sense.”

“Is that all?” Lucifer asks, moving in close enough that Dan can feel the connection trying to pull them together.

The temptation to lean against him is strong, but if Lucifer can resist it, so can he. It’s like edging, but with their souls. That’s an interesting thought.

He nods, but says nothing else.

“Then I only have one more question for you.” Lucifer goes quiet for a little longer than seems normal, like he’s hesitating, and then asks, “How do my two otherworldly visages compare?”

Dan furrows his brow beneath the mask and doesn’t respond right away. There’s a stillness that grows between them, creating tension that starts to make him feel unsteady.

“Are you asking me if I prefer one over the other?”

“Yes,” Lucifer clips quickly.

“Is this a trick question?”

“No,” comes his slightly less confident reply.

“Then neither,” he shrugs. “They’re both part of you, but neither of them solely makes up who you are.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The blindfold comes off and Dan finds himself staring at bright red eyes and dark, red flesh. Lucifer is completely nude. The majority of his body is covered in grooved pits and scars. There are smooth spots, too, along his neck, forearms, inner thighs and groin.

Dan wants to touch what he sees, fascinated and full of just as much awe as when he saw the wings. He stays right where he is.

He had a feeling this was where things were headed, and now he knows what he felt on his back were in fact claws, which means…“I can prove it,” he blurts out.

The Devil frowns, “How?”

Without giving it another thought, Dan moves forward and kisses him. For the briefest moment, Lucifer is uncertain. But that hesitation is washed away as the strange certainty/connection feeling opens between them with a burst of sensation. They draw in sharp breaths and wrap their arms around each other.

Their movements become frantic and full of need. Lucifer has one clawed hand thrust into Dan’s hair, his other pressing painfully against the small of his back, and Dan _loves_ it.

He lets his hands explore, albeit tentatively, not sure how Lucifer will react. The scarred ridges aren’t as rough as he’d thought they’d be. In fact, his skin feels, for the most part, the same, just differently shaped, and maybe a little stiffer in certain places.

He grows bolder the longer they kiss. He’s surprised that the lips on his feel no different. His fingers grip against a few edges and stroke downwards, only to be rewarded with a string of pleasurable sounds from the Devil’s throat.

But Dan knows he had a point to make. He starts to calm down and slow the pace between them. When he steps back to look at him, Lucifer has returned to his human form, a bit out of breath but still quite eager. Dan stares at him curiously, “Why’d you change back?”

Lucifer looks down at himself. “Strange, I didn’t do it intentionally.”

“I think it only proves my point even more,” Dan considers.

“What on earth is this point you keep going on about?”

“When you were still in your angel daze, the moment we touched, you snapped out of it and your wings disappeared. Did you do that on purpose?”

Lucifer frowns, “You know, I’m not sure, which is very unusual for me.”

A broad smile curves on Dan’s lips. “Just now, you said you didn’t change back intentionally, either. Don’t you get it? The link between us proves it doesn’t matter what form you take, you’re still the same person underneath it all.” He lets his gaze fall to the floor for a moment and his voice goes quiet. “And, I think I have an effect on you, that’s gotten stronger over time. We’ve had more than our fair share of arguments over the years and even some after we started sleeping together. This might sound kinda weird, but, it feels like your anger never seems to last very long—when you’re around me.”

Slender arms pull him close and Lucifer stares down at him. “You may be on to something there. Even when you were at your douchiest, I found you no more irritating than one might a bad hair day or a chipped nail.”

Dan rolls his eyes, “Glad to know I rate high enough to compare to your grooming concerns.”

Lucifer presses their foreheads together, amusement on his face. “I take my vanity quite seriously.”

“Is that supposed to be flattering?” Dan gripes, even though he’s grinning.

“I’m comparing the importance of my ego to your importance to me, though I thought that should have been obvious. Honestly, how do you solve any crimes with such poor deduction skills? Is that pudding you eat going straight to your head instead of your hips?”

Dan laughs and squeezes Lucifer’s sides, “I was provoking you, asshole.” He nudges the front of his body insistently against him.

Lucifer glances down and snickers, “Did you just trick me into giving you a hard-on?”

“Now who’s got poor deduction skills?”

A dark chuckle rumbles in his throat, “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.”

“Promise?”

“My word is my bond. But I think I’ll torture you a little first with conversation.”

Dan leans back enough to look at him properly. “I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?”

The Devil bounces his eyebrows, “In more ways than one. But yes—as much as I would prefer to shag you into submission until you’re a slobbering mess on the floor, recently I’ve recognized the value of ‘talk first, have fantastic sex later.’ Case in point: what you said earlier caught my attention. There is definitely something to be said about how easy it was to ignore your petty squabbles with me no matter how insistent you were about hating me.”

“I always assumed you just _really_ didn’t care,” Dan says. He moves to sit back on the edge of the bed.

Lucifer sits down beside him. “But that’s just it, Daniel, it’s important that I didn’t care.”

“Ok, now I’m lost. How does that make any sense?”

“I never felt the need to change your mind.”

Dan nods slowly, “Right. But you always find a way to get everyone to like you.”

“Exactly! When someone is resistant to my charms, or in the Detective’s exceedingly rare case, immune to them, it’s a fun little challenge to see what I can do to win them over. Some are more complicated than others, but I always find a way. With you, I never bothered.”

“Why not?”

“Perhaps you could shed some light on that. Have you spoken to Amenadiel recently? Has he found anything?”

That makes Dan laugh, “Actually, yeah.” Then his expression softens. “As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing divinely special about me, I’m just special all on my own.”

Lucifer stares at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I know it sounds corny, but, yeah, that’s what he told me. He’s certain I’m not a miracle—.”

“—best news I’ve heard all night.”

“And he didn’t find anything else that seems related to my situation, either. He said, and I quote, ‘before you were born, the right combination of spirit and personality just hadn’t existed yet.’”

Lucifer scoffs, “That sounds exactly like something my brother would say.”

Dan nudges him in his ribs, “Ok, now you have no excuse—why didn’t you bother trying to win me over like everyone else?”

“ _I enjoyed our rivalry_ ,” he replies, like it’s obvious. “You wanted nothing to do with me, and I liked that I never had to work my talents on you. And the more you hated me, the more I relished the idea that I had an arch nemesis, a villain to my anti-hero that I could count on to always make me look better.”

“I’m supposed to be the villain so I can make you look good? _Man_ , you are such a dick,” he chuckles, socking him in the shoulder.

Lucifer suddenly pounces on top of him. He locks their fingers together and keeps him pinned to the bed. Dan pushes back, but it’s more for show than anything else. Lucifer leans forward and starts nuzzling his face while he speaks. “I think it’s quite romantic, actually. It’s a forbidden union if there ever was one: two opposing forces seeking to bring pain upon the other, instead finding solace in the arms of their enemy to whom they would now call friend; a defiance of all logic and reason in favor of succumbing to the passions of the soul, and the will of the heart.”

Dan stares up at him and blinks. “ _Damn_. Remind me to never question your capacity for pillow talk.”

Lucifer makes a pleased noise, “Oh, did my words excite you? I know my oral skills are exceptional, but you’ve never struck me as a man who appreciates the nuances of verbal prowess.”

Dan reaches up and cups the side of Lucifer’s face and looks into his eyes. “Dicen que es arriesgado llevar el corazón en la manga. Pero cuando estoy contigo, no tengo miedo de darte mi camisa para mantenerte caliente.”

A gentle look comes over Lucifer’s face and his eyes soften. “That was lovely, Daniel. Is it from a song?”

“Nope, that’s all me.”

“Really?

“I have my moments,” he shrugs.

Lucifer brushes their lips together. “Well color me impressed. Remind _me_ to never underestimate your capacity for hidden talents.”

Dan grins. “Speaking of which,” he closes the space between them with a kiss and starts to pray.

A sudden rush moves through both of them as sensations ignite like a chain reaction. Lucifer melts against him and groans, grinding his hips on Dan wantonly.

Skin rubs against skin; rough stubble grazes along Dan’s jaw. He arches upwards; his dick is straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He reaches down with one hand to tug his underwear off when Lucifer’s hand abruptly catches him by the wrist and stops him cold.

The look in the Devil’s eyes is eerily calm. “Are you still interested in exploring your sexuality tonight? Or would you rather we carry on as we are?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“That depends—what are your hard limits?”

Dan suddenly gets curious. “What are yours?”

Lucifer shakes his head and taps his index finger on Dan’s nose, “I asked you first.”

“Ok, fine,” he pauses and racks his brain for an answer. It’s difficult because he’s never had to think about it before. A thought comes to mind suddenly and—“I don’t want to call you ‘daddy’ or anything like that when we’re having sex.”

“If you ever called me ‘daddy’ in the middle of sex I might actually vomit the celestial equivalent of my bowels and render you permanently brain-damaged—and that’s assuming I didn’t kill you first.”

Dan nods, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Right, and let’s stay there. Anything else?”

“I mean, obviously anything that’s _really_ out there is probably off the table, but…I don’t know. I feel like it’s one of those, ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it’ kind of things. And I’m ok with that.”

Lucifer narrows his gaze. “Are you giving me carte blanche to experiment with you, Daniel?”

He shrugs and smiles. “As someone who’s made it his top priority to experience everything the world has to offer, I figure there’s no better hands to be in than yours.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Lucifer coos. He goes in for a kiss, which is fervently given.

“Will it get you to suck my dick?” Dan draws in his lower lip beneath his teeth and bounces his eyebrows.

“Oh dear, someone’s feeling frustrated even after he already had a wank without me!”

“Oh, c’mon! How do you expect me to hold off when I’m in a room surrounded by every kind of sex toy known to man?”

Lucifer rolls his eyes, “Hardly a drop in the bucket, if I’m being honest.” He looks at Dan and then gets an idea. “If I had told you not to, would you have honored that?”

“Yes.”

“That was quick. You know, I’ve noticed you obeying me like this before. Is denying yourself what excites you or is it following my commands that does the trick?”

Dan tilts his head side to side. “Bit of both, I think. Denying myself is a good way to get me excited pretty fast. And I dunno, it’s easy to follow your lead, but I also like it when you follow mine.”

Lucifer stretches his body over him and lithely coils his arms around him, getting their faces close to one another. In a whisper, he says, “Would you mind if I took the lead first?”

Instinctively rolling his hips and groaning, Dan whispers back, “Be my guest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English Translation: "They say it's risky to wear your heart on your sleeve. But when I'm with you, I'm not afraid to give you my shirt to keep you warm."
> 
> I'm sorry I'm leavin' you all hanging! But I'm supposed to be camping right now, so I felt I had to find a stopping point before my vacation got away from me. I promise you the next chapter will be chock full of PORN. XD


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex. Talking. More sex. More talking. More sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very, very graphic--i.e. lots of cum in lots of places ...*ahem*.  
> This chapter is very long. Longest one in the story so far. Take your time. There's a lot to digest here.

Lucifer presses their lips together, drawing out an openmouthed kiss between them. Gradually, with one arm behind Dan, he moves backwards, pulling him up with him. Their mouths stay locked as they move to sit on their knees across from each other.

He slides both of his hands to rest on Dan’s shoulders. He brings the kiss to a halt and says, “Mirror my actions.” Keeping his hands on him, he leans back and waits. His gaze is steady and patient.

Dan places his palms on top of Lucifer’s shoulders and looks into his eyes, curious, but silent.

With a smile, very slowly, Lucifer raises his hands up so that only his fingertips are touching Dan’s skin. There is a subtle hint of the gravity-like pull that beckons them both to touch more, but keeping the pace leisurely seems to make it easier to resist.

With unhurried strokes, Lucifer’s fingers wind down and around the outside of Dan’s arms, while Dan lets his fingers course along the inside of Lucifer’s arms. The tempo is so gradual that they have no trouble matching their movements.

Turning his hands, Lucifer brushes the back of his nails along the inside of Dan’s palms. He stops when their fingertips touch. The magnetic grasp of their connection fights harder to keep them joined together, creating a sort of tension on the ends of their fingers.

They stare intently at each other. One by one, Lucifer separates their touch, starting with his little fingers, then his thumbs. He lingers with the last three digits. The ring fingers are next, followed by the index fingers. With only the ends of their middle fingers touching, the connection struggles to reattach them, making their hands tremble.

They sever the last bridge, and Dan draws in a quick breath. He feels a sudden jerk in the pit of his stomach. _Disconnected_ , is what it seems to convey.

Lucifer lets out a shaky sigh. He breathes in deeply to steady himself and says, “Lie down, do not touch yourself, or me. Say nothing, unless you want me to stop.”

Dan complies wordlessly. As he lies back, he’s surprised to find himself at half mast. He’s not sure if it’s the anticipation, the touching, or the playing around with their connection that’s given him a rise.

He starts to notice that things aren’t as clear around him, and the dimness in the room seems stronger than before. He’s grown so accustomed to the enhancement of his surroundings when they touch it’s almost like he’s in a different place altogether.

Before his thoughts drift too far, the sound of tinkling metal draws his attention. Across from him, Lucifer is sitting on his haunches on the end of the bed.

On his hands are a set of finely woven chainmail gloves. Of all the different styles Dan had seen in the sex closet, those were definitely one of a few pairs that caught his eye. He grins and rests his head back on the pillows, trying not to let himself get too excited.

Lucifer’s hands hover just above the tops of Dan’s feet. He can feel the cold metal tickle his skin, and a phantom sensation of their connection desperately trying to click together.

Gracefully, the Devil runs the metallic gloves along Dan’s legs, first on the outside, then inside, all the way to his inner thighs, making him twist and smile. Lucifer glides his fingers across Dan’s belly and chest, and deliberately circles around his nipples, but doesn’t touch them. He casually begins tracing lazy patterns across Dan’s arms with one hand and over his hips with the other. He teases around his groin as well, careful not to let Dan get too wound up.

Dan squeezes his eyes shut and breathes shallowly. The combination of the gloves trailing over his body, and the persistence of their connection trying to solidify through the layer of metal creates a distinct effect. It’s a subtle vibrating pressure that tickles as much as it stimulates. He’s never felt anything quite like it.

Lucifer does this for some time, slowly edging the link between their souls, just how Dan had thought of it earlier. He toys with the magnetic pull in such a way it causes minute spikes of their bond to bleed through, making Dan shudder.

He can only imagine what this would be like if it wasn’t a dream. He wonders how much of this Lucifer can feel. Without touching, he feels like he’s been cut off. It’s both enticing and worrying at the same time. He wants to know that he’s not alone in this.

Lucifer’s controlled voice gently ends the silence. “You forget how easily you can project, Daniel. Rest assured: you are never alone when you are with me, and I feel everything just as much as you do.” He leans over to look into Dan’s blue gaze, making sure not to touch him with his bare skin. “Show me that unrestrained faith of yours, and I may reward you.”

Dan closes his eyes and centers his thoughts on this moment. In such a relaxed state, it comes easily to him. He reaches out to Lucifer, communicating all of his fears and all of his joys equally and openly. He wants to share everything with him.

The unfiltered emotions hit Lucifer at once. His eyelids lower and he exhales softly, “Everything and more, Daniel, this I promise you.” He closes the space between them with a kiss and grasps Dan’s dick with his gloved hand.

A violent force of sensation, like a tidal wave, crashes through them when they kiss. Both men let go of long moans in the back of their throats. Dan continues to pray, unwilling to stop even for a moment.

He can taste Lucifer on his lips, smell the scent of his skin, and feel the roughness of his stubble on his face like he’s really with him. The chainmail glove squeezes around him, cold and hard and exhilarating. Their bond has strengthened so much that the dream becomes nearly indistinguishable from reality.

He senses the certainty/connection feeling between them like a wide, rushing river. He’s eager to dive in, swim towards its center, where that invisible, blinding point waits to smother him in its all-encompassing embrace.

But just as swiftly as it appears, it begins to dissipate. Dan can feel it receding when Lucifer gently (and with some effort), leans away and lets go of him.

Once detached, they’re both left breathless.

A smile forms on the Devil’s lips, and his eyes glint in the soft light of the room. “Now, where was I?”

On nimble limbs, Lucifer seats himself on his knees at the foot of the bed. The chainmail gloves are gone, and with his bare hands, he begins massaging Dan, moving slowly and sensually from feet to thighs and back again.

The sudden shift in texture and the direct contact make Dan arc his back and Lucifer chuckle deep in his throat. Occasionally, he plants light kisses on Dan’s calves or his knees, or sometimes, the tops of his thighs, lingering there to flick out his tongue. Over time, he moves his way up along Dan’s body, rubbing his arms, chest, even giving him a scalp massage, too.

Dan feels incredibly worked up, but strangely content at the same time. He could continue to lie here, or he could get down to business in a heartbeat, if asked to. It’s intoxicating in a certain way, warm and dazing, like after waking from a good nap. His dick twitches from time to time, going from rock hard to soft and pliable again and again. He loves every second of this.

The connection between them is strong and steady; an all-over body high that radiates just beneath the skin. He continues to try and reach out towards the bright immensity that emanates from Lucifer. But every time he does, Lucifer manages to stop touching him, even though he has to concentrate when he does it.

Clearly, it’s a part of the game they’re playing, because Lucifer hasn’t told him to stop, and makes pleased noises whenever it happens. For the most part, soft laughter and occasional groans have made up the majority of tonight’s conversation.

At some point, Lucifer shifts them both. He’s sitting up in the bed and has Dan cradled in his arms in front of him, facing forward. He continues to rub over Dan’s chest and arms with the palms of his hands.

Dan can scarcely comprehend how long they’ve been doing all of this, and he doesn’t care. It’s incredible, and he never wants it to stop, even if part of him is hungry for a release of some kind.

Just as his body begins to go through another waning period, melting into total relaxation, Lucifer tentatively sinks his teeth against his shoulder. Dan draws in his lip beneath his teeth and smiles, humming pleasantly.

From behind him, he can feel the reverberations of Lucifer’s voice against his back. “I take it you’re ready to move on to something with a little more bite?”

He nods silently.

He doesn’t know how long it’s actually been since he’s spoken, but he’s grown very comfortable with not using his words. There’s a certain freedom that comes with the silence, a comfort that allows him to trust that he doesn’t have to think too hard about anything. It’s like not talking gives him more energy to focus on what he feels. It’s strange, but soothing.

Slender, long fingers slide over his chest, up his throat, and gently take his jaw, turning his face to the side. Dan can’t help but notice how close Lucifer’s left nipple is all of a sudden. In this position, he’s pretty sure he could lick it. He gulps audibly; the temptation is _really_ difficult to ignore.

Lucifer hesitates. “Is something the matter? You can speak.”

Dan doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t want to leave any room for a misunderstanding, either. “I’m fighting the temptation to lick you.” Tell-tale stiffness suddenly nudges against his lower back.

There’s a pause on Lucifer’s end, like he’s considering something. Then he brushes his lips against Dan’s ear and his hand tightens on his jaw. “Keep fighting, then. Or else I won’t let you come tonight.”

A heavy breath escapes Dan’s lips and his dick gives an earnest throb in response.

The Devil chuckles darkly, “That’s what I thought.” He bends his head down and nuzzles his nose along the length of Dan’s throat. He places a few light kisses there, and then flicks his tongue out. He runs the tip along Dan’s jugular for a moment, only to replace it with his teeth, settling in firmly.

Dan suppresses a moan, trying not to let this simple act turn him on any more than it already is. But he’s so worked up that his body betrays him, his erection standing at attention immediately.

“Already, Daniel?” Lucifer says with mock surprise. “Why, I’ve only just begun.” He bites him again, striking much faster this time, right where the shoulder meets the neck. A stifled groan erupts from Dan’s lips. That’s definitely one of his sweet spots.

With his hands draped over Dan’s biceps, Lucifer sets his nails against his skin and starts dragging them down. He alternates with his teeth and tongue across Dan’s neck and shoulders, sometimes nipping at his ear, or kissing him gently right before biting again. All Dan can do is twitch and grunt, caught up in Lucifer’s arms; helpless, and glad to be that way.

Lucifer scrapes his nails down to Dan’s chest, fingers deftly staying just out of reach of his nipples, but inching closer.

Dan’s drunk with stimulation. It’s almost too much. He tenses and twists, resisting the urge to touch _anything_. Without a physical outlet, he impulsively lets loose an unhinged prayer. He begs Lucifer to let go, to stop holding back, to give him what he really wants—all of it and more.

A sharp breath is drawn and Lucifer goes into a full-body shudder. He snarls and twists both of Dan’s nipples _hard_.

Dan cries out, bucking his hips forward involuntarily. His entire body goes taut as he fights to keep from coming right then. He manages to succeed, but _fuck_ —that was close.

Panting, he concentrates on trying to relax again. That’s when he notices ridges of mottled flesh pressing against his back. His eyes drift down in front of him. Red, clawed hands are wrapped over his torso. They’re holding him warily, and he realizes that Lucifer’s gone very still behind him.

Even though he wasn’t given permission or prompted to talk, Dan takes a liberty with it this time and says in a husky voice, “Keep going— _please_.”

A hesitant, warm mouth brushes against his throat and kisses him. Teeth nip, and then the claws begin to prickle along his arms and sides. Dan squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers.

He’s guided to move forward onto his hands and knees, and by now, he’s shaking with anticipation. He settles on his forearms and breathes deep. Overall, he still feels like a relaxed puddle of mush, but his growing excitement is starting to make his heart race.

From behind him, Lucifer traces his claws in intimate patterns along Dan’s back and down along his thighs. Dan writhes beneath the touch, sucking in his breath whenever he feels a small whisper of pain singing through him.

Lucifer varies the pressure, letting the claws stick here and there to catch and dig into his skin. For a while, the only sound that can be heard is Dan’s ragged breathing.

Just when he thinks he’ll collapse from overstimulation, Lucifer gently but firmly coaxes him to lie on his stomach and spread his legs. There’s activity behind him that he can’t see, and then Lucifer settles over him. The ridges of his torso press into Dan’s back, and he guides himself inside slowly and slickly.

They both grunt and hold still for a moment, equally struck by an overwhelming sense of closeness. And then Lucifer starts to move.

He pushes deep, but unhurried. His hands slide over and lock their fingers together. Dan can feel the clawed tips dent into his palms, and edges of scarred flesh dig into his back. He shivers with delight. It feels different and yet somehow not unfamiliar. The movements betray the form; it’s still Lucifer above him, making love to him, and he couldn’t be in a better place.

He dares to share that information, finding the link between them stable as ever and ready to let him dive into its depths and take a swim. He gathers what he feels and sends it out, raw and enveloping. _Love. Joy. Gratitude. Trust_.

Lucifer’s breath catches in his throat and he stops for a brief moment, only to resume with a renewed sense of vigor. He starts to pick up the pace. Dan starts to moan.

Before long, the Devil has moved up onto his forearms so that the angle is more direct. He’s rutting against Dan’s backside, growling low in his throat.

Rough groans roll from Dan’s lips. His fists grip the bed sheets. His dick is aching for release, but he keeps to his silent promise, refusing to touch himself. He’ll do it for Lucifer, but damn if it’s not testing his limits this far down the road.

One of Lucifer’s hands snakes around to the front and takes hold of him, careful not to hook him with claws. A loud moan bursts from his throat. Lucifer starts stroking him in time with his thrusts. His other hand wraps over the top of Dan’s chest and draws him into an upright position.

Dan swears between clenched teeth as a wicked shiver runs through him. He rocks his hips backwards, working with the angle to increase the sensation.

Lucifer’s breathing changes and he snarls, moving faster. The hand on Dan’s chest slides up to take his chin and turn his head to the side.

He sees Lucifer’s Devil face, and has the presence of mind to notice that his eyes are not glowing. They’re glassy and filled with a warm darkness that Dan wants to sink into.

Feeling dizzy with lust from front to back, Dan moves up and kisses him, at the same time diving into the rushing current that represents their link. His mind stretches outwards, seeking that immense, formless bright force at the end of it all.

Their bodies smack together. Their breathing comes in labored pants. Sweat drips. Lucifer is shaking. Dan groans; his muscles are tense. He’s so close to that point.

Almost…almost…

“Lucifer.”

“Daniel!”

A surge of energy, blinding, hot and unyielding, careens both of them over the edge. Lucifer roars, holding Dan tightly, his claws digging into his body. A guttural scream rips from Dan’s throat. He spills all over Lucifer’s hand and across his own stomach, until both of them are left panting and quivering.

~*~

Lucifer slips away from him rather ungracefully and collapses backwards onto the bed with a loud _whump_.

Dan focuses on trying to catch his breath. His limbs are wobbly. He looks over his shoulder and does a double take. Lucifer is sprawled out, looking perfectly human.

Crawling over to him, Dan props up on one elbow and his eyebrows raise high. “Oh shit.”

Lucifer has that look again, all soft and gentile; his lips holding the barest hint of a smile. His eyes are closed. In that eerily deep yet smooth voice, totally void of concern, he asks, “What’s wrong, Daniel?”

“You answered my prayers again.”

“I did.”

“I didn’t mean to do that, I swear. I don’t even know what I was really asking for.”

Lucifer opens his eyes and turns his head. His face is the very picture of tranquility. “You wanted me to make love to you in my Devil form.”

At the risk of taking advantage of his current state, Dan can’t resist the urge to ask a few questions, while he has the chance to do it without Lucifer clamming up on him. “Did you only do it because I prayed for it?”

The angel blinks at him. “Yes, and also no.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Lucifer’s tone remains gentle and unchanged. “I’ve wanted to do it with someone in a meaningful way for a long time. I’ve hated myself for wanting it. I didn’t know I was capable of following through until you prayed for it.”

“How do you feel about answering prayers?” Dan asks, uneasy about the truth.

“Not good,” he replies, his voice unnervingly consistent.

Thrown by that, Dan furrows his brow. “How do you feel about answering my prayers?”

“Good,” he says, allowing the hint of smile to develop fully.

Dan’s heart aches. He manages to smile back, but lets it fade. “Why?”

“Because what you ask for I want to give you.”

He huffs a laugh. “Well, that’s a relief.” He looks at the angel, admiring his radiance and the serenity he exudes, and sighs. “I’m sorry I asked you questions while you’re like this. It won’t happen again.”

“I forgive you. But I am upset with you.”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Yes.”

“You’re still _you_ , then? You’re not completely brainwashed?”

Lucifer gives him a slow blink. “I am still me and I am not brainwashed. Part of me is just muted. And that part is still upset with you, even though I understand it.”

Dan groans and rubs a hand over his face. “Alright, I know I’m gonna catch hell for dragging this out, but I gotta ask—is there something I can do to fix this?”

“Be patient with me.”

He stares at him and shakes his head. “Man, if Linda could see you like this—.”

“—I’d prefer if you not tell the Doctor about this. I’m not ready for her, or anyone else, to know.”

“You got it,” Dan says and makes a ‘zip’ motion with his fingers across his mouth, tossing away the imaginary key.

Lucifer smiles at him and turns on his side. They’re still not touching. He starts to reach out to Dan and then stops. The calm of his voice is betrayed by his words. “I’m terrified of losing you, Daniel.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ve never been as happy in my life as I am with you, and I struggle to believe that it’s genuine. I think our own egos prevented us from coming together much sooner. The possibility was always there, but we were neither ready nor willing to see it. Even still, we haven’t done this for very long, and it seems, for lack of a better word, like a dream.”

Dan swallows and wants to reach out to him, but holds off. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I would never tell you otherwise,” he replies, and then places his hand on Dan’s arm.

~*~

At once, they both draw in a gasp from the sudden click of their connection.

Lucifer comes back to himself. His face is riddled with a mixture of confusion and anger. He struggles to tear his hand away and then rolls over to sit on the side of the bed, hunching forward.

Dan frowns and sits up, thinking.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but Lucifer had a good point. Not much time really has passed yet. It’s only been a week and a half—at least for him. On the other hand, it’s been…almost four months for Lucifer. It makes sense that he’d be hesitant about accepting the possibility that this is real.

But all of those moments in between, all of the moments leading up to now…

In his dreams, Dan knows that time is weird, but it really does feel like things last a lot longer. His perception of it has become so distorted, sometimes he feels like he and Lucifer have been together for months, even years. Maybe it has to do with the soul bonding, or maybe his brain is actually starting to get well and truly warped.

Suddenly, this thing between them feels complicated again.

Dan turns to stare at Lucifer’s back. He admires the long dip of his spine. He likes the way his hairline smoothes on the back of his neck. And he loves the small inward curves just above his hips, where he knows his hands fit like they were meant to be there.

He thinks about all of the time he spent hating Lucifer for being obnoxious and reckless and fucking unfairly attractive and successful. He knows he’s spent _a lot_ of time thinking about those things. He remembers when he would find ways to ignore those thoughts, with fighting, or drinking, or just pouring himself into his work.

All of a sudden, something clicks in his mind. Even before Lucifer entered the picture, Dan was fighting battles in his head. And the best way he could keep them from tearing him apart was to work, work, _work_. The worse they became, the more distant he became towards Chloe and Trixie.

He knows that he had his priorities all messed up, but this is the first time that he’s really considered how his previous actions might have affected not only things between him and his family, but Lucifer, too.

“You were right—about the possibility always being there to make something happen between us. I’m sure our egos did factor into why it never happened. But I think a bigger reason was because I didn’t understand my feelings for you.”

Lucifer turns his head to the side, but he keeps his gaze averted. He says nothing.

Dan presses on. “You know, I became obsessed with you—had a file documenting all of your known associates and residences, finances, habits, interests; all of it. Come to think of it, I’m actually kinda surprised I never found out the truth during all of that.”

This time, the Devil turns his upper body so he can stare incredulously at him.

With one of his hands, Dan scratches the back of his neck and looks away. “Anyway, I’d made it my personal mission to know exactly who you were and why you had suddenly wormed your way into the LAPD and into Chloe’s life. I told myself it was my concern as her then-husband. That I was doing something anyone in my position would do. But the truth is I wanted to know why I kept thinking about you. I’d grown so used to resenting that I found men attractive, it didn’t even register that I could’ve just been trying to get to know more about you because I was into you.”

When he finally lifts his gaze, Lucifer is still staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

Dan smiles nervously and shrugs. “C’mon man, say something.”

“You mean to tell me that all this time your supreme douchiness was just a confused front for a schoolboy crush you had on me?”

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

“Why is it always the handsomest ones who are the most unhinged?”

“Hey, you’re pretty fuckin’ hot yourself, you know.”

“Touché, darling,” Lucifer smirks. He lets out a long sigh, slips under the covers, and moves to lie back on the bed, automatically raising his left arm.

Without giving it a second thought, Dan gets under the sheets and snuggles in beside him. They both draw in sharp gasps when they touch. He chuckles as he wraps his arm across Lucifer’s stomach. “Do you think that will ever go away?”

“I’m more curious to know what it will be like when it happens in person.”

“It’ll probably be like, ten times more intense, so that’ll be fun. Wait—you said, ‘when’?”

Lucifer looks down at him, “Of course! I’m sure I can convince Amenadiel to give me another little vacay if I’ve been a well-behaved Devil for long enough. I know patience is not your virtue but I also know that you clearly thrive on deprivation.”

Dan rolls his eyes, “Of a certain _kind_ , sure, but how long are we talking between visits? I’m literally at your house right now because I miss you that much.”

“So move in, then.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Well why not? I left Maze in charge, but I know she’s become terribly keen on living with Doctor Linda and my brother—and their offspring, for some Dadforsaken reason. Anyway, I own the building, I have a considerable net worth accruing interest, and so long as my bank doesn’t go under, then my business managers keep getting paid to handle all my finances. Besides, it’s not like anyone’s really using the place, from what I gather.”

Dan nods slowly, still looking a little shocked. “Yeah, Maze shut down Lux because she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with it. She’s probably been in the penthouse about as often as I have, since you left.”

Lucifer sits up and glares at Dan. “Wasn’t sure she wanted to—of all the—I handed her one of the top nightclubs in all of Los Angeles and she just…shut it down?” He grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest, pouting. “How is she, anyway?”

Dan sits up, drawing his legs up to his chest from under the sheets. He wraps his arms over his shins and rests his head on his knees, smiling at Lucifer. “She misses you.”

He scoffs, “There’s a laugh.”

“In her own way,” Dan insists. “She’s also pissed at you.”

“That’s more like it—why this time?”

“Dude, you dropped a huge bomb when you left. I mean, I only just found out what happened, but I’ve seen the fallout of it unravel over the last month. Your absence affected a lot of people. But, you already know that.”

Lucifer lets his gaze fall to his lap and he nods quietly.

It’s never a good sign when Lucifer keeps his mouth shut. Dan backtracks the conversation in an effort to keep the mood light. “Anyhow, she’s good. I think she’s really happy being an aunt, actually.” He notices that Lucifer’s lips are tight, like he’s resisting the urge to speak. He prods him with a punch to his shoulder. “C’mon, ask. You know you want to.”

Lucifer gives him a look, “ _Fine_. How is my brother’s little progeny? Has he sprouted wings yet?”

“No. But from what Amenadiel told me, it sounds like that might not happen. He says you guys all came out fully formed, so I assume if it hasn’t happened already, then it probably won’t happen at all.”

“True, but there’s no telling what could happen, really—we have nothing to base it on.” Lucifer flexes his shoulders and sighs again, his voice steadily gaining confidence. “What about my brother? I’m afraid the last time he and I spoke, we didn’t have time for menial catch-up chat.”

Dan nods, “He’s good—you’d probably love to hear his complaints about parenthood.”

“Why on earth would I ever want to hear about that?”

“I guess he was hoping Charlie would have more angel qualities than human ones.”

Lucifer laughs, “Torture is usually Maze’s bread and butter, but picturing my brother bumbling through all the unsightly details of child rearing is certainly amusing. And what about the good doctor? How is she these days?”

“Solid. I think she probably understands why you left more than anyone. She’s become my therapist too, in case you weren’t aware.”

“I had my suspicions, and needless to say you’re in good hands with her,” Lucifer smiles at him.

Dan lifts his head up. “Oh, Ella knows we’re dating by the way. She’s pissed at you, too, for not saying goodbye.”

“Ah, Ms. Lopez—I confess I do miss her noxiously bright disposition. Despite how much I claimed to the contrary, it always brightened my spirits. Hold on, she knows we’re together but does she—?”

—she doesn’t know _everything_ , but Chloe told her that much.”

“How can she not know everything by now? What sort of preposterous yarns has the Detective been spinning about my whereabouts since I left?”

“Look, man, you didn’t give her a choice. She had to make _something_ up. You went to deal with ‘emergency family business’ that forced you to move away; we started seeing each other in a long-distance relationship and things are going great.”

Lucifer blinks. “And she believed that?”

He shrugs, “I know—it surprises me, too. Honestly, I don’t know how she hasn’t figured it out by now.”

“You hadn’t until very recently, and you’d devoted all of your spare time to fashioning a dossier on me that would make any self-respecting stalker blush.”

“True—but in my defense, I had _a lot_ on my mind.”

A lascivious look comes over Lucifer’s face and he suddenly pounces forward. A definite _snap_ of energy hits them both when their connection pulls them together. They both gasp involuntarily.

Lucifer pins Dan below him, this time with his hands firmly holding him down by his wrists. He leans forward and purrs, “Like obsessing over me, apparently.”

Playfully trying to struggle out of the hold, Dan shakes his head. “I can’t believe you find that attractive.”

“I find it flattering—but I thrive on unhealthy levels of attention, or so my therapist has told me.”

Grinning, Dan pulls out a terrible British accent and says, “Why is it always the handsomest ones who are the most unhinged?”

Lucifer gapes at him. “Why you—I sound nothing like that!”

Dan chuckles and nods, “Oh yeah you do!”

“Liar!” he snarls, bending forward to nip at Dan’s ribs.

He starts bucking his hips, squirming and laughing, “Fuck! Stop! Stop! That tickles!”

“That’s the bloody point, Daniel!” He uses his otherworldly strength to keep Dan pinned in place, assaulting him with teasing bites all over his torso. Dan kicks his legs out, unable to escape, grunting and laughing and begging for him to stop.

~*~

Eventually, Lucifer’s bites become laced with tongue-licks and he starts to move more slowly. Dan calms down as he notices the shift and his laughter turns to small whimpers and sighs.

The Devil’s hands ease their grip on Dan’s wrists. His hands slide over his waist and down to his ass to start massaging gently. His mouth courses its way down over Dan’s stomach and to the crook of his hip, lingering there.

Dan’s biting the corner of his lip. He has his hands in Lucifer’s hair, tugging occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the muted feeling of it between his fingers.

He considers praying to open up their connection so he can feel more, when a thought stops him. “Hey, wasn’t I supposed to get a turn?”

Between kisses over Dan’s waist, Lucifer mumbles, “Is it your turn, already?”

Dan starts to squirm and laughs. “Already? C’mon, it’s been like, at least an hour.”

Lucifer drags his tongue dangerously close to Dan’s dick and grins, “Try three.”

“It’s been _three_ hours? Man, no wonder I was losing my mind.”

“I can do it again if you like,” Lucifer offers. He continues to shower Dan with kisses along his lower body, deliberately ignoring the most sensitive parts.

Shaking his head, Dan chuckles, “I don’t know if I could survive another round of that so soon after the first time. It was intense.”

“It was. Did you like it?”

“ _Oh yeah_ , and it will definitely call for a repeat performance in the future—just not now.” He props up on his elbows and narrows his gaze curiously. “Are you _trying_ to distract me?”

“Is it working?” His tongue dips into the crevice of Dan’s thigh.

“Damn it, yeah. Fuck, you’re not going to stop, are you?”

An impish look comes over Lucifer’s face. “Why don’t you _make_ me stop, Daniel?”

Realization dawns on him all of a sudden. He concentrates on trying to distance himself mentally from what Lucifer’s doing. As soon as he has that under control, he lifts up again on his elbows and looks down at the Devil with a cool expression. “Lucifer, stop.”

He obeys at once, withdrawing his tongue and easing delicately into a submissive crouch. He holds his position so still, Dan’s not sure if he can see him breathing. In the back of his mind, he suddenly wonders if he actually _has_ to breathe.

Dan shakes the distracting thought from his mind and focuses on the acutely still figure between his legs. “Stand and face the wall—across from the bed.”

Lucifer follows his instructions, all the while explicitly avoiding eye contact.

A toothy grin pulls at the corner of Dan’s mouth. He rolls off of the bed and goes to the nightstand drawer on the left side. He knows exactly what he’s looking for. Once he finds the items he wants, he takes them out, places them on the bed, and walks to stand a few feet behind him.

“Do you use a safeword?”

The barest twitch of a smile graces Lucifer’s lips. “I’m surprised you even know what that is.”

There’s a sound of fabric twirling and then a pronounced _thwack_ follows.

He gasps, but more out of surprise than anything else. He resists the urge to look behind him.

Dan keeps his voice impartial. “I watch porn, idiot. Answer the question.”

His smile broadens. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve never needed one?”

“Yeah—but you have an unfair advantage. Which leads me to my next question: how rough can I be with you?”

“Start with whatever your threshold is, and explore from there. It’s not the same for me as it is for you. But I can tell the difference between someone who wields pain with finesse and someone who just makes it up as they go, of which I’m willing to bet you’re the latter.”

_THWACK!_

Lucifer yelps and staggers forward, totally caught off guard.

Dan moves closer and gently rubs the spots where he hit Lucifer on his ass. Both of them twitch when they touch. Staying focused; he leans his head around and grins when he sees the lustful gaze in the Devil’s eyes. “You were saying?”

Lucifer takes note of the rolled hand towel in Dan’s left hand and arches a thick brow at him. “Another one of your hidden talents, I see.”

“I’m just gettin’ started.”

The magnetized sensation of their link keeps his hand stuck to his skin. But after everything they did earlier, Dan’s learned a few things. He eases his hand off slowly, allowing his fingers to linger a bit. He draws a soft sound from Lucifer’s throat when he detaches from him. He has to resist the urge to do the same.

He steps away and lets his face slip into a neutral expression. “Get on your knees, facing me.”

Lucifer does as he’s told.

Dan picks up a wide-banded, black leather collar and a pair of cuffs to match. Without being asked, Lucifer tilts his head back, exposes his throat, and raises his wrists. A small rush runs through Dan’s groin. He places the collar on, then the cuffs, and stands back.

There’s a certain thrill to bossing around someone taller than him. He’s not sure if it’s some sort of weird power trip, or if he just happens to really dig tall guys—it could be both. Either way, he’s enjoying this. The smile peeking at the corners of Lucifer’s mouth says he is, too.

Dan turns and disappears into the closet for a few minutes. When he comes back, Lucifer breathes in sharply through his nose. Dan is wearing one of his suits. It’s his black Armani, single-breasted, wool and mohair blend, with a black dress shirt, a blue tie and pocket square that compliment Dan’s eyes. He’s even wearing a pair of his Wolf & Sheppard oxford shoes. Thanks to dream-logic, everything fits him perfectly.

He does a little twirl. “Took me a second to think about it, but I’m pretty sure this one’s your favorite, isn’t it?” Lucifer glares at him. “Thought so.” He saunters back and retrieves a chain leash from the bed. He clips it to a D-ring on the collar. “Let’s go for a walk, to the bar first.”

He grabs the hand towel and tosses it over his shoulder. Lucifer starts to crawl forward. As Dan watches him move, his slacks already feel a little tighter.

When they reach the bar, Dan winds the chain over his fist, making the leash taut so that Lucifer has to crane his neck up to see him. “Make me a drink and get me a cigarette.”

Dan loosens the chain but doesn’t let go. He knows the bar layout well enough that Lucifer shouldn’t have any trouble doing the tasks while still being on the leash.

With deft hands, Lucifer swiftly sets up a whiskey double with no ice and then places a cigarette between Dan’s lips and lights it for him.

It’s a shame that Dan can’t taste much due to the dream. He knows what the whiskey _should_ taste like, and the cigarette, but neither does much more than offer aesthetic right now.

“Go to the couch and get on your hands and knees in front of it.

When Lucifer is in position, Dan sits down parallel to him and props his shoes on his back. Lucifer doesn’t even flinch. Clearly, this isn’t his first time being an ottoman.

Dan knocks back his drink, wishing it could give him a buzz, and sets the glass down. He keeps the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and undoes the front of his slacks. He whips out his cock. As he starts jacking off, his gaze is all for the beautiful foot rest beneath him.

Lucifer holds perfectly still. His eyelids are lowered. His mouth is closed. There is something virtuous and reverent about his expression.

Dan knows how much Lucifer prides himself on having autonomy, so the fact that he has completely yielded to him is its own sort of turn-on. It reminds him of the first time Lucifer went down on him, how he looked grateful to be given the opportunity to please.

Although none of it is real as it could be, Dan still finds this little pocket of decadence super hot. Wearing Lucifer’s suit, smoking and drinking, bossing him around and just using him like an object…ok, yeah, this is _definitely_ a power trip and he’s fucking _loving_ it.

A shudder runs through him and he increases his pace, his breathing coming more rapidly. He hears a soft intake of breath from beneath him, and knows Lucifer is acutely aware of just how close he is.

After several minutes, Dan swings his legs off of him and slides forward, pumping harder. Panting with the cigarette still pinched in his lips, he groans in the back of his throat as he comes, splashing on the Devil’s back in several short bursts.

Lucifer makes a noise and fights the urge to writhe beneath him. His muscles tense and his limbs shake slightly from strain.

Out of breath, Dan leans over and smacks his hand across Lucifer’s ass, making him jump. He grins and stands up, tucking himself back into his pants. He flicks the cigarette into an ashtray on the coffee table and then winds up the chain leash.

Lucifer stands to face him. He’s breathing heavily through his nostrils. His pupils are dilated, adding a hint of innocence to the elated look he has on his face.

Dan is very tempted to kiss him, but refrains. He thinks if he did it now, he’d lose the edge he’s feeling and would get all snuggly. Not like that’s a bad thing, but he’s not finished.

Still, he can’t resist the urge to cup the side of his face and look into his eyes. “You good?” he asks. Lucifer swallows and nods. Dan smiles briefly and shifts gears again, whispering, “Did you like it when I came on you?”

“Yes,” Lucifer breathes softly.

Dan bites his lower lip and makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Good, ‘cause there’s a lot more where that came from. Let’s go get some fresh air. You can stay upright.”

They walk out to the balcony. There is no breeze, and there are no city sounds. It’s eerie, really, but it’s also rather intimate. The moon is out, at least, and its light casts down on Lucifer’s back, highlighting the places where it’s become wet and sticky.

Dan unclips the leash. “Put your hands on the railing.” Lucifer obeys silently. Moving to stand behind him, Dan plays with their connection. He runs his fingertips slowly up and down Lucifer’s spine. While his mouth hangs agape, he concentrates on keeping quiet, so he can hear Lucifer instead.

The Devil’s back muscles flex and he hums softly. His dark hair creates a strong contrast to his face. It provides Dan with a crystal clear view of every expression he makes. He looks beautiful like this, eyes closed and lips curved into a smile beneath the moonlight.

Suddenly, Dan gets an idea, but he’s not sure it’s a good one.

He steps forward and embraces him from behind, sighing audibly when their bodies press together. “I hate to kill the mood but I have a difficult question to ask.”

“Ask it,” he replies gently.

“I know you said it’s different for you, because you’re not human, but I also know you _do_ feel more when I…pray to you.”

Lucifer’s voice is deep and sounds vaguely amused. “Are you asking me for permission to pray while feeding your inner sadist?”

“Maybe,” Dan mumbles.

There’s a pause on Lucifer’s end, and then he draws in a breath. “Without going into it too deeply, know that you’re not alone in the curiosity of what you hope to accomplish.” He turns and slides his arms around Dan’s waist. “And I’m confident that with you, it’s different. Now,” he tilts his head forward so that he’s eye-level with Dan and gives him a sweet smile. “How can I get your head out of the gloom and back in the gutter?”

Dan sighs and thinks for a second. He raises his brow, “Blowjob?”

Lucifer grins proudly, “One knob-slobbering coming up!” In single motion, he turns Dan against the railing and drops down to his knees.

“Don’t call it that.”

“Snogging the bishop? Pole smoking? Bobbing the bell-end?”

“Ok, now you’re just makin’ shit up,” he laughs.

“It got you smiling again, so I’d say it was worth it,” Lucifer grins, undoing Dan’s belt and zipper. He pulls out his dick and starts to stroke it fondly.

Despite the attention to his nether region, Dan’s heart melts. “Damn it; if you keep acting like this I’m gonna get way too sentimental.”

“Losing your edge already, Daniel? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, nothing screams _average_ quite like empty promises.”

Dan’s cock gives an encouraging pulse in Lucifer’s hand and a smug look comes across his face. “You better watch your mouth.”

“Ooh, is that Detective Douche I hear? You’ll have to come back later, I’m afraid I’m fresh out of bargain bin pudding and bad fashion.”

Dan exhales through his nostrils. “You talk too damn much.”

“I don’t see you doing anything about it, not like you have it in you to—.”

Dan gets a fistful of Lucifer’s hair in one hand, clips the leash back on with the other, and shoves inside the Devil’s mouth. He tosses his head back and starts rocking his hips. He twists the chain lead in his hand and pulls.

Lucifer whimpers. He holds still while Dan fucks his mouth. His eyes flutter closed and the look on his face is one of rapture. For a while, the only sounds to be heard are rustling fabric and wet, muffled gasps. It’s perfect.

Dan can’t believe how fast he got revved up, but he runs with it. He looks down at the man beneath him, sucking him fervently like it’s the only thing that matters. It’s so good, too fucking good. His brow creases and he starts moaning.

A long tongue swirls around and lips squeeze over the tip of his cock. He grits his teeth and tenses up, swearing under his breath. Pressure builds. He pulls tighter on the leash and Lucifer starts to choke and grunt.

It’s enough to send Dan over the edge and a groan erupts from his throat. He jerks backwards and comes all over Lucifer’s face, grunting with each spasm that shoots through him.

As Dan leans back, trying to catch his breath, he looks down. Lucifer’s face is bright beneath the moonlight, shiny and wet. The look in his eyes is exhilarated. He beams at Dan, “There, isn’t that better?”

Dan tucks himself back in and slumps down to the ground. He reaches out and places a hand on Lucifer’s cheek, stroking his thumb across a droplet. He stares at him in awe, not sure how this thing between them is possible, or why he deserves any of it. He shakes his head and smiles. “Damn, I love you.”

Lucifer places his hand over Dan’s and smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard that one after getting a facial.”

They both laugh and tilt forward, nuzzling their faces together.

“Man, I really got you good. Your whole face is wet!”

“It was a considerable amount. But that’s what you desired, wasn’t it? This is a dream after all; you could fill a bathtub if you wanted to.”

Dan laughs louder. “Dude, that’s gross!”

“Says the man who showered me with his spunk not once but twice so far tonight—and who is now literally rubbing it between our faces.”

“Is it messed up that I think it’s kinda hot?”

Lucifer smiles warmly and shakes his head, “Not at all. It’s a very intimate and visceral act; it’s totally natural to find it arousing. That being said,” he pauses and reaches for the hand towel. He cleans Dan off first and then dabs at his own face scrupulously. “Sticky eyelashes are a terrible nuisance.”

He hands the towel back to Dan. Then he does something very un-Lucifer-like: he curls up between Dan’s legs on his side and rests his head on his thigh.

For a second, Dan has both of his hands raised and isn’t sure what to make of this. He lowers his right hand over Lucifer’s hip and lets his left thread through his hair, bringing a soft sigh from him. Dan furrows his brow but smiles. “You’re enjoying this _way_ more than I thought you would.”

“Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does. Care to explain why?” Dan musses Lucifer’s hair gently, and wishes for the umpteenth time that this wasn’t a dream.

“It allows me to fantasize that I’ve given up all responsibility.”

Dan laughs through his nose. “Well that makes a ton of sense. But you seem to like taking charge, too.”

“Yes, it’s called being a switch; I can derive pleasure from both sides.”

“I know what it is, man, it’s just…I dunno, unexpected, I guess.”

Lucifer readjusts so that he can look up at him. “It goes back to what I said earlier—how I liked that I didn’t have to work my charms on you.”

Nodding, Dan puts its together. “You don’t feel like you have to be _on_ when you’re with me.”

“Precisely,” Lucifer hums. He fawns beneath Dan, “Speaking of which—what shall I do for you next? I’m feeling particularly eager to please you.”

He grins down at him, “Oh yeah?”

“Believe it or not, I think it’s the suit that’s doing the job.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten on my case for getting it messed up.”

“Oh, believe me, it’s been torture watching you soil it with your love stains—it’s only because we’re in a dream that I’ve been able to hold my tongue.”

Unable to resist, Dan fires back, “Next time we’re together in person I’ll be sure to get you good and filthy in whatever you’re wearing, then.” Lucifer starts to protest when Dan tugs the leash and places a finger over Lucifer’s lips. He whispers, “Because that’s what I desire.”

A smile stretches across the Devil’s face. He opens his mouth and draws in Dan’s finger with his tongue.

Dan inhales sharply and represses a shudder. He adds another finger and starts moving them back and forth, letting Lucifer coat both digits with plenty of spit.

After a few minutes, he pulls his hand back and drops it down between Lucifer’s legs and presses up against him. He starts slowly, moving the tips of his fingers in a circular pattern. He watches as Lucifer lowers his eyelids and tilts his head back; watches as he bites the corner of his lip and listens to him groan softly.

Dan wants so badly to kiss him, but he holds off. Instead, he concentrates on steadying his thoughts and his breathing. When he feels confident enough, he pushes his fingers inside and prays, but doesn’t close his eyes.

The link between them spreads wide open, like it’d been ready to burst at the seams. Lucifer arches his back and moans; Dan sucks in his breath but stays focused. He wants to see this.

He can feel the tightness of Lucifer’s inner muscles squeeze his fingers. He sends thoughts of praise and love through their connection, and finds that he can’t stop looking at what it does to the man below him.

The Devil tenses up and grits his teeth. He’s erect, but doesn’t touch himself. One hand is balled up in Dan’s shirt, the other pressing against the balcony floor.

When Dan picks up the pace and starts hitting his prostate, Lucifer’s eyes pop open and their gazes lock. His eyes look solid black and shiny. Raw expressions between bliss and tension contort his face. Dan has never seen him look so vulnerable. He’s both moved and turned on at the same time.

It doesn’t take much longer before Lucifer’s breathing starts to hitch and his whole body goes taut. It’s at that moment that Dan leans in close. He tightens the leash in his hand, brushes their lips together, and rasps, “Don’t. Not yet.”

A noise partway between a whine and a growl sputters from the Devil’s lips. Dan keeps driving his fingers in and out, breathing heavily through his nose. Lucifer quivers. He starts to whimper, but it’s clear that he’s begging Dan to let him come. Dan’s fucking loving the hell out of this. And he’s nowhere near finished yet.

Just when it sounds like Lucifer is about to scream at him, Dan gently starts to bring him back down. He’s familiar enough with the certainty/connection feeling that he knows how to ease out of it. It still takes effort, but he manages to quiet his mind, at the same time sliding one finger out at a time, and then leans back.

Lucifer held off from climaxing, but he still looks wrecked. He’s breathless, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his body. He gives Dan the most wounded, pleading look he can muster.

Dan takes a deep breath to steel himself from caving to the puppy dog routine. He has a second to wonder if he actually made the wrong decision. But one glance down and he notices that Lucifer’s still quite erect. He gives him a wry smirk and flicks his thumb and forefinger over the head of his cock. “Cheater.”

Lucifer drops the look. “Can’t blame a Devil for trying,” he says airily.

“Just for that I should teach you a lesson,” Dan grumbles.

A flicker of excitement passes over Lucifer’s gaze. “Would you? Please, _Daniel?”_

It’s in the way he says his name—sweet and full of temptation—that makes Dan want to do terrible, wonderful things to him. The puppy dog eyes didn’t work, but this sure as hell did.

He strokes the back of his fingers across Lucifer’s cheek and unclips the leash. “Stand up and put your hands on the railing.”

With a smile, Lucifer complies.

Dan gets up and straightens his suit. He sets the chain leash down on one of the patio chairs and rubs his hands together, thinking for a bit.

He takes a moment to admire the long, lean form in front of him. The moon, pale and lifeless in the sky, bathes the Devil in its cool light. The shadows that play on his skin accentuate the line of his back and the shape of his body.

Dan sees a broad canvas to work with, and just the thought of that gets him excited. “Ok, wait here. And spread your legs a little farther apart.”

~*~

Dan is gone for several minutes before returning to find Lucifer standing exactly as he left him, and looking perfectly content to stay that way.

Setting down an assortment of items on the patio chair, Dan removes his outer jacket and tie. He unbuttons the top of his black dress shirt and rolls up the sleeves. He takes a look at the man across from him. Lucifer has his head tilted up towards the moon, his gaze thoughtful. Dan walks up to him.

When he wraps his arms around his waist, their link tightens them together and they both sigh audibly. In the back of Dan’s mind, he thinks that the magnetic sensation is still quite present, but somehow, it’s gotten a lot easier to manage ever since they started playing around with it.

A small part of him misses how intense it was in the beginning. But it could be a good thing that it’s mellowing out. Maybe it means that things between them are solidifying in a way, meshing together so that soon there won’t be any lines to blur anymore. It’ll probably go right back to square one when they see each other in person, however. That day can’t come soon enough.

“Thank you—for letting me do this with you.”

Lucifer looks over his shoulder at him, “Likewise, darling.”

Dan holds him for a moment longer, and then gradually detaches. He lets his hands trail last over Lucifer’s back, teasing their connection through his fingertips. There’s a pronounced jolt when he finally pulls away. He takes a deep breath and shakes off the last of the magnetic feeling.

He stays close, so that the temptation to touch can be felt by both of them. He glances back towards the patio chair and then says, “One more time: you sure it’s ok if I try praying to you when I do this?”

“Yes.”

Dan nods and goes to pick out something to start with. It also buys him a bit of time to think. He knows he can’t physically damage Lucifer. But based on the way their soul bond seems to work, there’s a specific grey area he wants to explore. He wonders if by _thinking_ about inflicting pain and coupling his arousal with it, if it can transfer to Lucifer in such a way that he will feel _all_ of it.

It’s an idea that’s been at the back of Dan’s mind for a little while now. The most difficult thing is that it will take almost all of his focus to not slip into the current that has become his mental representation of their link. Whenever things open between them, it’s the first thing he wants to do.

But tonight has proven to be very enlightening, and when Dan picks up one of Lucifer’s black leather belts, he knows he can do this.

He folds it over twice, so that he has a solid grip on the bottom and a sturdy, short loop to work with. He gives it a test slap against his hand, and watches as Lucifer resists the urge to look behind him.

Dan centers himself and thinks about Lucifer openly, easing into the prayer and conveying soothing thoughts of comfort and trust. Lucifer breathes in, closes his eyes, and exhales.

_Snap!_

“Ah!” Lucifer lurches forward. He looks back at Dan, both surprised and impressed.

A delighted smile splays across Dan’s face. He bounces his eyebrows. He holds up a finger and twirls it, silently requesting Lucifer to turn around.

Once he has settled again, Dan concentrates on keeping the link between them open. He communicates another wave of gentleness and lets it linger. Lucifer waits.

_Snap! Snap!_

The Devil writhes and gasps.

Again, Dan sends another tender prayer through the ether, this time putting more meaning behind it, giving it build. He holds onto that for a while, letting it sink in. Lucifer closes his eyes again, and grins. He knows what comes next.

_SNAP!_

Lucifer cries out as a shudder works its way through his whole body.

Oh yeah, Dan can definitely do this.

~*~

As the dream wears on, Dan experiments with an array of different objects. He goes back to using a fresh, rolled up hand towel, and then moves on to a braided flogger. He uses the chain leash, too, with the leather grip as the end point, and finds that he likes the way it flies. He tries out a riding crop, but he’s not such a fan of the rigidity of it, discovering that he prefers tools with more give to them. Ultimately, he cycles back to the belt. He likes the sound it makes the most, and he likes the level of control he has with it.

Dan’s been pacing it out, of course, but it’s getting harder and harder to stay focused, even if it’s grown easier to bounce between sensations. It’s like a strange sort of mental and spiritual gymnastics. Praying to Lucifer first with softness, and then right at the moment of physical impact, he sends down the rush he feels and the pain he’s intent on causing. It’s surreal and incredible.

Lucifer sits against the railing, eyes closed. His body is totally clear of any evidence of Dan’s exploration. But his breathing is shallow, his limbs are a little shaky, and there’s a fine veneer of sweat beaded on his brow. Despite all this, his cock is standing at full attention, leaking at the tip. The look on his face is one of total and pleasant exhaustion.

Dan kneels down in front of him. He doesn’t touch him, just in case the bridging of their connection might shock them both with overstimulation. “You ok?”

The Devil hums sweetly. “Ecstatic. Another glorious first for us: spiritual S&M.”

He smiles, “It was awesome—in like, the truest sense of the word.” Dan gives him a onceover and then asks, “Are you all tapped out?”

Lucifer opens his eyes in alarm. “Are you joking? I’m still waiting for the grand finale. Or is it you who’s all tapped out?”

Dan huffs a laugh and shakes his head. He stands up and calls over his shoulder, “You tell me, asshole. Bring the leash!”

~*~

When Lucifer enters the bedroom, Dan is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He has a downright smug look on his face.

“Set the leash on the pillow and come to me.”

Lucifer does exactly as he’s told.

Dan notices that Lucifer is still sporting an erection like it’s the most natural thing in the world. If ever that was the case for anyone, it would be for him. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Is that for me?”

“Yes, Daniel,” he says, voice surprisingly docile.

A small thrill hits things low in Dan’s body. Though it’s been like this since the beginning, he still hasn’t gotten tired of the many ways in which Lucifer says his name. Sometimes it’s filled with lewd intentions, other times it’s full of sweet promises. Every time it feels like it means something.

“Take off my clothes. Try not to touch any part of me when you do it.”

Lucifer smiles at him with a look in his eyes that says, _watch me_.

He starts with Dan’s shirt, undoing one button at a time. He uses his fingertips to peel back the fabric carefully and with confidence. He then kneels on one knee to undo his slacks, close enough that one misstep and he’d touch him for sure. He’s showing off, of course, but Dan lets him have this, because it is impressive to watch.

After removing the pants and the shoes, Dan is down to his underwear and socks. Their connection practically vibrates between them, fighting hard to get them to press together. He can’t imagine how Lucifer plans to make this work without touching him in _some_ way.

Lucifer flashes him another haughty look. He reaches for a sock first and delicately pinches it using his nails. He pulls it back just enough to dip one of his fingers inside and once he has a grip on it, slides it off without any trouble. He does the same with the other sock.

When he gets to the final garment, he uses both of his hands. He takes hold of the waistband with his fingernails and pulls down. He does it slowly, to ensure that he doesn’t lose his grip. There’s a distant look in his eyes, and Dan knows that he’s concentrating very hard, even though he makes it look effortless.

He _almost_ fails in his task when Dan’s dick springs out of his boxer briefs, rigid and ready. It nearly hits Lucifer in the face. Dan’s surprised it didn’t. He wonders if Lucifer did it on purpose just to fake him out.

When he finishes, he stays on his knees and looks at Dan keenly.

Dan draws in his lower lip beneath his teeth and exhales with a shudder. “Go lie down, on your back, knees up, spread apart. Attach the leash and leave it out so I can grab it.”

The Devil obeys him, his breathing growing heavy.

This time, it’s Dan’s turn to be careful. He wants entering Lucifer to be the first instance of touch between them, but in order to do that, he’s going to have to do some tricky maneuvering.

He climbs onto the bed in front of him, scooting up between Lucifer’s legs slowly. He spits into the palm of his hand and coats himself with a few strokes.

Lucifer picks up on what he plans to do. He slides his hips forward and spreads his legs a little farther apart. He takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose.

Slowly, Dan guides himself in, and breathes out a prayer.

A watery rush of sensation washes over them, loud and devastating. Dan groans, and buries himself to the hilt.

Lucifer arches his back. A strangled noise tears from his throat as his orgasm hits him without warning, and he spills all over his stomach.

They both take a second to be stunned and breathless. Then Lucifer tilts his head back and sighs roughly. He flutters his eyes closed. “Don’t stop. _Please_.”

Dan obliges.

Over time, he works up to a steady rhythm, and it’s not long before he’s pounding into Lucifer’s ass recklessly. He keeps his heart open and prays to him, nurturing the connection between them with love and lust and everything in between.

They’re both sweating. Dan’s muscles are tight. He has one hand gripped over Lucifer’ hip, the other has the leash, held taut. He’s grunting with strain, feeling fucking awesome and so turned on.

Lucifer’s eyes are still closed. He moans freely, looking resplendent and wicked as he twists around, relishing in the differing sensations as Dan penetrates him with his body and his soul. He reaches up with both hands and pulls Dan’s face close to his own. “Kiss me, Daniel, let me taste you.”

Dan pulls on the leash, pressing their lips fiercely together. They both groan in the backs of their throats. Dan slows down but deepens his thrusts, drawing out almost all the way so he can push back in again.

There’s something he wants to do. He’s been dancing around the idea all night but he’s not sure if it’s something Lucifer is into. He really wants it, but he doesn’t know how to start.

Lucifer does it for him, tearing his mouth away to growl, “Fuck me, Daniel!”

A shiver runs up Dan’s spine and he shudders. “Yeah, you like it when I fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lucifer hisses between his teeth. “You feel so good, Daniel. More, give me more.”

“Oh yeah? You want more? You want some fuckin’ more?” Dan starts slamming into him.

Lucifer bites the corner of his lip and whines loudly.

Dan snarls, “Yeah, that’s right, you fuckin’ take my cock, fuckin’ take all of it.”

“Yes! Yes! Give it to me!”

He tightens the leash. “ _Fuck_ , you feel so fucking good.” He grits out, “I’m so close, I’m so fucking close. _Lucifer!”_

A guttural sound bubbles from the Devil’s lips and his voice is slithery. “Come inside me, Daniel. I want to feel you come.”

Dan screams, pressing against Lucifer as his body spasms over and over in a dizzying rush. He takes Lucifer’s cock in one hand, starts pumping, and prays without restraint, offering to share everything he feels.

A long groan escapes Lucifer’s lips. He arches up, spilling himself between them for a second time. He’s left shaking and gasping for air by the end of it.

Slumped on top of him, barely able to move, Dan lifts his head up. He looks into Lucifer’s eyes, out of breath and smiling big. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is an unintelligible string of sounds. He shrugs and laughs, then rests his head on top of his chest.

“Love you, too,” Lucifer grins, mussing up Dan’s hair with his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW. You still with me? I sure hope so. This one was quite the labor of love.  
> Sorry if it got weird. But I feel safe to share this lil' piece of myself with y'all :)  
> I resume school next week so my posts are sadly going to have to be staggered farther apart. Please hold tight!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer & Dan wrap-up and make plans! The week moves swiftly by. Dan goes out drinking with the boss. A friend shows up unexpectedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY that this came so late. The new semester started up and all of my time has suddenly been taken from me. I hope this chapter treats you well. I think it was worth the wait. There's some pretty significant things that happen. Lots of feels. Lots of wuv (yes, you heard me!). And more...

After taking some time to recuperate, something that’s been at the back of Dan’s mind finally decides it can’t wait any longer. “So, were you really serious—about me moving into the penthouse?”

Lucifer stares down at him and smiles. “Warming up to the idea, are we?”

“Maybe. There’s just a lot to consider.”

“Like no rent, private parking, luxury amenities just begging to be used, and enough space to accommodate the most generous quiver of surfboards you could ever imagine?”

“I’ve only got four boards,” Dan chuckles.

“All the more reason to take advantage of the extra space!”

“Tempting. And those are all good reasons.”

“You _did_ say you feel closer to me when you’re here. There’s another good reason for you.”

Dan sighs and lets his face soften. “But it’s not that easy.”

Lucifer frowns, “And why not?”

“What about Maze? She’s still pissed at you for leaving. Wouldn’t handing the penthouse over to me be like a slap in the face?”

“If you remind Mazikeen that she has far more important things to worry about than me—shocking as that is—I’m sure she’ll see reason. Besides, you said she rarely uses the place. I’m sure she’d be glad to hand it off if it means it’s no longer her concern.”

He considers that for a moment and then says, “Ok, what about Chloe? I mean, she’s already hurt that you chose me over her,” Lucifer opens his mouth to protest when Dan points a finger at him, “Don’t deny it. That’s exactly how it is and you know it. You guys have history, and a lot of it is centered on the penthouse. All I’m saying is: no matter what, I think she would definitely have some issues.”

Lucifer’s lips tighten and he grumbles, “As much as I’m loathed to agree with you, you may be right.”

Dan turns to stretch out on his back and gestures with one of his hands. “And Trixie. How the hell would I explain to her that I’m living in your place when you’re not even here? I haven’t even told her that we’re _dating_.” He groans and throws an arm over his eyes. “This is getting complicated.”

The Devil rolls onto his side. He traces lazy circles with his finger across Dan’s torso, playing with their link and drawing a small breath from both of them. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Maze will see the practicality in the decision. The Detective and I never actually dated, you two have been divorced for some time, and, despite my best efforts, your offspring loves me to pieces. And she adores this place—she’d probably be more interested in getting her grubby little hands on everything over your personal affairs.”

That gets a small smile from Dan, but it doesn’t last.

Lucifer flattens his hand over Dan’s chest and looks into his eyes. “Your living arrangements can’t dictate how other people feel, Daniel. They do it to themselves.”

Dan knows he’s right. But he still wants to err on the side of caution. “I’m sorry, man, I just—I need some more time to think about it.”

An unreadable expression crosses over Lucifer’s gaze. He twitches his lips in a gentle smile. “Take all the time you need. Now, if you’ll allow me, I have a rather unique request.” He climbs on top of Dan and settles his body over him, effectively pinning him while he laces their fingers together and holds him down.

Dan grins and flexes his hips against him. “I’d say ‘lay it on me’ but it feels like you already have.”

Lucifer leans forward and gives him a chaste kiss. “Believe it or not, that appetite is playing second fiddle to what I want to ask you.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Lucifer Morningstar?”

They both chuckle and nuzzle their noses together. Lucifer mumbles, “Shocking, I know. Humor me.”

Dan clears his throat and pulls his head back. “Alright, what’s the request?”

“Since you’ve clearly developed a rapid mastery with projecting sensations through our bond, I wonder if you’d do me the kindness of sharing your meals with me.”

“You mean, like, sending you reviews?”

Lucifer rolls his eyes. “I’m not a foodie blog, Daniel.”

He huffs a laugh, “I’m teasing you. Amenadiel told me how experiences are like sustenance for you guys.”

“Yes. And while you’ve outdone yourself with keeping me satisfied in certain areas, I confess I still have other cravings that need fulfilling.”

“Anything in particular?”

He groans dramatically, “Ugh, _several_ things! Admittedly, some of them will be hard to come by, but with a little name-dropping and a handful of Benjamins, I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Dan creases his brow. “You think I just have cash like that lying around?”

Lucifer scoffs, “Hardly. But I know how you love being thorough in your investigations. I imagine you came across at least one of my stashes by now.”

“You’d trust me with that?”

“It’s only money, Daniel,” Lucifer says pointedly.

He chuckles. “When it comes to you, yeah, I guess it is. So where should I start?”

“Before I go overwhelming you with all of my favorite restaurants in Los Angeles, you can start with what’s in the penthouse.”

A mischievous look comes over Dan’s face. “Does this mean I get to eat the rest of your taquitos?”

“ _The rest of_ —how long have you been helping yourself to my hangover rations?” He darts forward to start nibbling along Dan’s neck.

Arching his back, Dan squirms beneath him. “Since day one—and how do you even get hangovers?”

Lucifer starts nuzzling against him. “On occasion, I indulge myself so much that I become overstimulated. Imagine the worst caffeine crash you’ve ever had, combined with the most you’ve ever eaten in one sitting, and adjust the result for a celestial constitution.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re not human,” he replies softly.

Lucifer brings his movements to a halt. He leans back so that he’s kneeling over Dan. The look in his eyes is pensive. “I keep forgetting that you are.”

There are layers to that sentence that Dan is certain he can read through. It’s in the way he looks at him, and how his body has grown still. He recalls several instances where Lucifer complained how humans seemed to comprehend so little. He holds that up beside what Lucifer said to him earlier, about worrying that their connection wasn’t genuine. He draws a conclusion.

“That’s why you’re afraid that what we have isn’t real, isn’t it? Because I’m human.”

Lucifer’s mood shifts from one state to the next and he perks up. “Well there’s no sense in worrying about it, Daniel. It’s not your fault you were made with such limited capabilities.”

“But what about this?” he sends a small prayer through, making Lucifer shiver. “Doesn’t the fact that you and I became _soul-bonded_ prove that what we have is real? Maybe it’s more real than anything anyone’s ever experienced before.”

Lucifer cups Dan’s cheek and has the audacity to look at him with pity. “It’s thinking like that, which got you into this mess in the first place.”

Doing his best to be patient with him, because that’s what he was cautioned to do; Dan takes a deep breath and keeps his tone neutral. “What are you talking about?”

“Our second night together. You were so desperate to be accepted by someone that you made a deal with me just to keep me close to you. Let your emotions run unchecked long enough and you end up making all sorts of rash decisions. Make no mistake; I’m enjoying our time together immensely. But it’s only a matter of time before you come to your senses and decide to move on. It’s inevitable.”

Dan has to concentrate very hard not to shout at him. He refuses to believe that this is temporary. He licks his lower lip and tries again. “You said you were terrified of losing me—.”

“—totally irrelevant! I was under divine influence and in no condition to be taken seriously.”

“Were you lying to me?”

“Certainly not! I was just—,” he falters and swallows. “I wasn’t myself.”

The mood grows tense between them. Dan remains patient.

Slowly, he lifts his hands up to hold Lucifer’s face. He’s wearing his blank but beautiful stare, giving nothing away. Dan knows he’s just deflecting. He knows he’s afraid. He can _feel_ it through their link, for fuck’s sake.

He starts to wonder if the only reason Lucifer’s been able to say he loves him is _because_ he thinks that it won’t last between them. Like he’s making sure he says it before it’s too late.

If there’s one thing Dan knows about himself, it’s that he never just ‘falls’ in love. When he’s made a choice to open his heart to someone, he dives in headfirst. As far as he’s concerned, if he doesn’t go all in after making that decision, then what’s the point?

He thinks about the first time Lucifer asked him to pray. How he needed to show him what he felt because he was too afraid to say it out loud. It gives Dan an idea. He decides to try a different approach to reach him.

Dan lowers his eyelids and presses their lips together. He slides his hands down, moving one to grip Lucifer’s waist, right where his hand fits best, while letting the other slip between their bodies. He takes hold of the Devil’s cock and starts stroking.

A stifled moan works its way from Lucifer’s mouth. He instinctively begins rocking his hips back and forth, moving into Dan’s touch.

They work into an easy rhythm, both of them breathing roughly through their noses. After a few minutes, precum starts building beneath Dan’s thumb. He swirls it around and varies his pressure, causing Lucifer to twist and gasp.

Leather-clad wrists glide forward and press against Dan’s shoulders, giving him a rise. He pulls his head back and looks up, eyeing the collar and the cuffs and loving the view. A grin stretches across his face.

Between labored breaths, Lucifer smiles at him. “Something on your mind, darling?”

“I love that you’re still wearing everything.”

“I love what it does to you.”

Dan draws in his lower lip beneath his teeth. He picks up the pace and alternates his grip. Lucifer groans, writhing sinuously above him like he’s made of liquid. “Fuck, you look beautiful when you do that,” he growls.

Laughter bubbles from the Devil’s lips. “I look beautiful when I do anything.”

“Narcissist.”

“Douche.”

Dan slips his free hand from Lucifer’s waist to grab the rim of the collar, pulling his face closer. He studies him with a cool, detached expression. He speeds up with his fist. Lucifer’s lips quiver and his body tenses. He flutters his eyes closed. Dan twists the leather in his hand. “Eyes on me, gorgeous, I wanna see you,” he snarls.

A strangled, lewd whine escapes Lucifer’s throat and he obeys. He thrusts his hips harder, breathing raggedly. His arms start to shake. He looks into Dan’s bright blue eyes and sees something fierce beneath the surface.

Lightning quick, Dan lets go of the collar to grip the front of Lucifer’s neck. He increases the pressure in both of his hands. Lucifer cries out as his orgasm suddenly rends through him and all over Dan’s fist. Within moments, he’s left breathless and shuddery.

Without wasting another second, Dan coats himself and pulls him forward. He grunts when he pushes inside him. Lucifer sucks in his breath. He grits Dan’s name between his teeth and grinds his hips against him.

Dan focuses on steadying his pace. Once they’re in a good rhythm, he squeezes his eyes shut and starts to pray.

Both men exhale long and slow, like they’d been holding their breath without realizing it. A wash of sensation floods over them, altering their perceptions of each other with intense, intoxicating clarity.

Dan concentrates on this moment; on everything he’s thinking and feeling. It’s all so much and it’s all incredible. Nothing about this is temporary to him. And he knows exactly how to prove it.

He gathers strength from their connection, diving headfirst into the rushing current that is their link. His thoughts lead him straight towards that blinding, formless immensity he knows is the center of what makes Lucifer everything that he is. His mind reaches out to it, only this time, he does something different.

He shifts from sharing his thoughts of the present to thoughts of the future. He expresses his hopes, his dreams, his ideas, and his eagerness to see these things realized with Lucifer by his side. He wants to share all of it with him; all of it and more.

Lucifer suddenly huffs his breath and lurches forward. His skin is dewed with sweat; his hair is tousled to the side. They’re still moving together.

Dan is breathing hard. He’s getting close. He pulls Lucifer into a rough kiss, feeling the scrape of his stubble against his chin. He wraps an arm across his back and holds onto him protectively.

Through soft, panting breaths, Lucifer leans back enough to cradle Dan’s jaw with one of his hands. A strange look comes over his face. He searches Dan’s eyes, a question hanging on his lips. “Why me?” he whispers, voice oddly distant.

An unusual vibration nudges against Dan’s mind. His voice trembles, “Because you let me in.”

Lucifer smiles and presses their lips together again.

A vast, brilliant force surges through their link. Something deep in Dan’s core makes him jolt. He’s suddenly enveloped in warmth. In light. His nerves sing with energy. His eyes roll back and he shudders. With an unhinged groan, his climax hits him with wave after wave of raw sensation.

When it’s over, he’s left gasping for air and clinging to Lucifer’s body like a lifeline.

~*~

Once Dan’s heart finally stops racing, and his breathing gets back to normal, he takes stock of his situation. Lucifer is pressed against him like he’s trying to melt into him. His arms are folded behind Dan’s head, his face is resting on his chest; his body is warm and slack. Dan can feel telltale stickiness between them, but he doesn’t even remember Lucifer coming a second time.

Bewildered, Dan asks quietly, “What the hell was that?”

Lucifer lets go of a pleasurable groan and lifts his head lazily to look at him, a rather intimate smile on his face. “That, my dear Daniel, was me repaying the spiritual favor. And also another first.”

Dan furrows his brow, trying to wrap his head around Lucifer’s words. He thinks about every time he’s reached through their link. It suddenly occurs to him that it’s always been like that, that he’s the one moving through it. Even when their souls became tethered the first time, it was because he initiated it.

Watching him try to process everything makes Lucifer laugh softly. He runs the back of his fingers over Dan’s cheek. “Look at you, all mind-blown and cum-dumb. Yes, Daniel, it’s exactly what you think: you’ve been touched by an angel.”

They both erupt into a fit of laughter. Lucifer presses their foreheads together and they kiss a few more times, gradually reducing them both to soft giggles and hums.

Eventually, Dan calms down enough to ask, “So is that what it feels like every time I pray to you?”

“Yes—well, minus the orgasms—those are bonuses. But the extreme, warm tingly sensations you were subjected to are the crux of how it feels.”

“No wonder you get blissed out after you answer prayers; that must be like, a hundred times more intense.”

Lucifer gives him a wry expression, “Try a thousand times and add the orgasms back in, only internally. It’s debilitating and meant to feel good so that we feel grateful whenever we’re doing Dad’s work. I’m totally all for being smashed out of my mind, but not when it’s just a tool to make me into a willing pawn for someone else’s plans.”

Dan thinks of something, but he’s suddenly afraid to bring it up, fearing it might set Lucifer off. He’d feel bad if he didn’t say it though, because he thinks it’s worth discussing. “But what if that wasn’t all it was for?”

As expected, Lucifer gives him a wary look. “What are you implying?”

Raising his hands up, Dan says, “Hear me out: What if it’s not just an incentive to do your Father’s bidding, but it’s just how it is—a cause and effect, not a design feature.” Lucifer opens his mouth to retort when Dan holds up a finger. “Question: when you’re all dazed out like that, would you lie to me?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then everything you say when you’re like that is true, right?”

“…yes.”

“You said to me, and I quote, ‘everything you ask for, I want to give you.’ If that’s the truth, then you have control over that part of yourself.”

Lucifer frowns. “Did it look like I had control, Daniel?”

He rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Ok, no, but maybe that’s just because you bottle it up all the time. Look—when your Dad wanted you to bless someone, He told you to do it. But He never told you to do it for me. That was all you. You made the choice to answer my prayers because deep down, that’s what you wanted to do.”

He watches the gears turn in Lucifer’s mind while his gaze is trained elsewhere. For a moment, he’s not sure whether he’ll stay put or roll away and start sulking. But the longer he doesn’t move, the easier a smile starts to form on Dan’s lips.

After about a minute, Lucifer refocuses his gaze on Dan and gives him a half-smile. “I must love you, because I’m still considering whether or not I should wipe that ridiculous look off your face with my fist.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Dan chuckles.

The Devil swiftly tilts forward and bites down on Dan’s left nipple, making him tense up. Between his teeth, Lucifer growls out, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Ok, ok—you win, I’ll stop!”

He flicks his tongue for good measure. Dan twists beneath him and gasps. Lucifer lets go and resettles his body over Dan’s. He snuggles his face against the crook of his neck and sighs. “Moving on, I have a list of things I’d like very much for you to eat in the next few days—once you’ve finished off my damned taquitos—you greedy little thief.”

“It’s not like you can eat them,” Dan counters boldly.

“They’re still _mine_ ,” he rumbles darkly. “And those who would threaten what’s mine must face the consequences.” He sinks his teeth into Dan’s skin and whispers, “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson. Punish you for your greed, classic Devil style.”

“Is that a promise?” Dan replies breathily, nudging his hips upwards.

Lucifer inhales deeply, pauses, and then sits up and crosses his arms over his chest. “Nope! You’re just going to have to wait, I’m afraid.”

Dan huffs and whines, “Ah, c’mon man, now you’re just teasing me.”

“Well teasing _is_ the prologue to torture, Daniel, that’s how this works.”

He smiles and rolls his eyes, “Fine.” He sighs, “guess I’ll just have to wait then. So what’s on your list? I don’t have any allergies, I like spicy food, and I’ve never been a picky eater, so you can put anything in front of me and I’ll try it at least once.”

“Splendid! Have you ever heard of La Dolce Vita?”

“On Santa Monica? Yeah, reservations were always insanely hard to come by so I never actually got to try it out.”

“Well now’s your chance,” he purrs.

“I could get used to this,” Dan grins.

Lucifer leans forward and brushes their noses together. “So could I.”

~*~ 

The next few days and nights move by swiftly.

In the mornings, Dan changes up his routine, switching from an indoor workout to surfing for an hour or two. It’s been great for his mental health, and has allowed him to keep up a pretty good mood during his daily grind at work.

Ella can’t resist the urge to grill him about his new relationship. He knows he could tell her to stop if he actually felt uncomfortable about it. But if anything, the more he talks about it to _someone_ , the easier it feels to talk about it at all. He’s glad to share it with her, because it means that they’re still friends.

He was worried for a while that he might have ruined things between them when he was still a mess. But with each day, he feels better about their friendship. It’s also been nice to have someone to bounce off personal stuff to, since he and Chloe are currently not speaking outside of anything work-related.

Dan can tell she’s finally starting to let everything really sink in. It’s in her body language, her clipped sentences, and the dark circles under her eyes. He wants to comfort her, but he knows he’s probably the last person she wants to talk to right now.

The only thing keeping them working well together is that they have a lot to do. For the last four days, they’ve been doing in-person interviews of potential suspects to see if anything stands out. Even Zach helped out with a few to offset the workload. It’s been tedious, to say the least, and nothing has panned out yet.

During the evenings, he indulges in Lucifer’s cravings. He makes a thing of it, wears a suit, uses a fake name, and goes into undercover mode like he’s on a sting op. The only differences are that their two-way communication is limited to sensory input, the target is a meal whose name is often hard to pronounce, and his partner happens to be the Devil.

Sometimes, Dan likes to mess with him. He makes it his personal mission to occasionally eat things that Lucifer will find unusual or particularly unpleasant. In contrast to the satisfied sensations he normally receives, Dan will be hit with a strong wave of disgust and irritation (which makes him stifle laughter), or a raw burst of arousal (which forces him to hide an erection). It’s definitely become their new favorite game.

Afterwards, he continues to indulge himself by taking advantage of the hot tub and Lucifer’s huge, comfy bed. He’s been enjoying crashing at the penthouse for the last several days, and it’s given him a lot of time to think about Lucifer’s offer.

Had it not been for him coming here to get outside of his comfort zone and channel all of his anger and frustrations, Dan might not have ever changed. This place has since taken on a new meaning, and it’s become comforting in a way he never thought possible. He really starts to consider living here; what it would be like. Maybe with a change of mind and heart comes a change of scenery, too.

~*~

By the time Friday night rolls around, Dan is walking down the street with a confident, relaxed stride. He and Zach moved their plans ahead so they could cut loose and not have to worry about anything the next day. Ending the week on a high note with drinks and good company sounds like a perfect idea.

He makes it to the bar right at eight. Zach is already waiting for him, sitting at a booth with a pitcher ready to go and sipping on a pint.

“Started without me, huh?”

Zach pauses, “Shoot, I’m sorry, Dan, guess I was just too eager for the weekend.”

He shrugs as he sits down. “Nah, its fine, it’s been a long a week.”

“You got that right. That case of yours is proving to be quite a handful. I get the feeling there’s something we overlooked.” He pours Dan a beer.

“Me too—but if your track record is as good as you say it is, then we’ll catch the sonofabitch soon enough. Thanks again for all your help by the way.”

Field waves a hand at him dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I know you and Decker have a lot on your plate. Anything I can do to mitigate that just means I’m doing my job right.”

They toast to that.

Dan takes a generous gulp to catch up. He studies him for a moment and then remarks, “You know, you’re not like most cops I’ve known.”

The lieutenant raises one of his thick brows and gestures with his glass in his hand. “I could say the same thing about you. In fact, if I didn’t already know you, I’d have pegged you for something more…athletic. Personal trainer maybe—or a lifeguard.”

“Wow, uh, thanks. What gave you that impression, if you don’t mind me asking?” He takes another hearty gulp of his drink.

Zach tilts his head side to side, “Eh, just some observations; I don’t want to weird you out.”

Dan leans forward. “Well now you gotta tell me, or else I’m gonna assume the worst.”

A brief silence falls between them, and then Zach says, “You’re extremely self-motivated, you thrive on routine, you take care of your physical appearance, and your particular build tells me you spend a lot of time in the water.”

There’s a pause on Dan’s side, and then he laughs. “Let me guess: old profiler habit?”

“Sticks to me like glue. Hell, you could say I was born with it. I’ve always been fascinated by how things can shape a person. I like looking at the end result and working my way backwards.”

“Like how you mentioned about liking architecture,” Dan adds.

Field pulls his head back, surprised. “Yeah, exactly. Gee, Dan, I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“That’s one of my talents, I guess. I’m always paying attention.”

Just as he says that, his eyes catch sight of long legs in painted-on leather pants, and a deadly grin strolling right up to him.

“Hey, Dan,” Maze says pleasantly. She notices he’s not alone and takes a half-step back. She flares her nostrils and looks at Field, both intrigued and amused. “Wow, Decker wasn’t kidding, you _do_ have a type.”

Dan shakes his head and his lips tighten into a frustrated smile. “Maze, this is Lieutenant Zach Field, _my boss_.”

She laughs—because of course she does. “Oh yeah?”

Zach stands up, holding his hand out. In a slightly deeper, more gravelly drawl than usual, he says, “You must be Mazikeen Smith—the bounty hunter.” Maze takes his hand. He blinks, and then his lips twitch into a smirk. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Maze juts her chin out at him. “You the one who’s been throwing all the extra fun my way?”

His cheeks tint slightly. “Guilty as charged.” He glances at Dan and explains. “When I took over, Johnson told me all about Ms. Smith’s exceptional performance with the department. I’ve been making sure she gets the most difficult cases before anyone else. Nothing but the very worst for the very best.”

Dan chuckles, “Damn, Maze, I think you have an admirer.”

Keeping her eyes on Zach, she arches a scarred brow and gives him the onceover. “Wanna have sex sometime?”

The lieutenant gives an uneasy chuckle and rocks on his heels, looking speechless. He flashes a questioning look towards Dan, who smiles and signals with a tilt of his head towards the booth. Zach looks back at her. “How ‘bout a drink first?”

She looks from one man to the other and shrugs. “Ok.”

Dan slides out from his seat to stand. “I’ll go grab another glass.”

As he walks away, from behind him, Maze shouts, “Get another pitcher while you’re at it!”

“On it!” he calls over his shoulder.

~*~

Within Minutes, he’s on his way back over to them. Zach and Maze are sitting across from each other, having what looks to be a very engaging conversation. They’re leaning towards each other, their expressions shifting back and forth from secretive to flirtatious.

While Dan was looking forward to some more one-on-one time with Zach, he can’t deny that he’s totally curious to see how things play out with Maze.

By the time he reaches the booth, they’ve noticed him and have leaned back in their seats, looking overly-casual. He pours a pint for the demon and then tops off the other two glasses. “Did I miss anything good?”

The bounty hunter opens her mouth to answer when Zach pipes up first. “Maze was just telling me how you two know each other. Sounds like you have quite the colorful history.”

Dan smirks and sits down beside Maze. He gives her a fond look. “Yeah, well, we’ve certainly come a long way from assault and battery, that’s for sure.”

Field does a slow blink. “Come again?”

Maze tilts her head to the side, “First time we met, I knocked him out, stripped him and put him in his ex’s bed because I didn’t want her distracting my boss.”

Dan snickers and sticks his thumb out at her. “She actually thought that would work.”

She shrugs, “It usually does.”

He smiles as he sips his beer. “Yeah, well, you were wrong.”

Maze turns to Zach. “You wanna know which way he hangs?”

Dan chokes.

The lieutenant laughs and shakes his head. “You have some very interesting friends, Dan.”

“Do _not_ get me started.”

~*~

The rest of the night sees the three of them full of good conversation, laughter, and plenty of alcohol. After the first two pitchers are down, Maze talks the men into taking shots with her.

There’s a bit of drunken dancing, another round of shots, followed by another pitcher between them. At one point, Zach heads to the bathroom. Dan takes the opportunity to blurt out to Maze that Lucifer wants him to move in. She is more surprised about the seriousness of their relationship over losing the penthouse.

Totally arrested in that golden moment of drunkenness, Dan gushes to her about how happy he is. He promptly apologizes right after. He doesn’t want to rub it in her face. He tells her she deserves a lot more gratitude and respect than he’s ever seen her get from anyone. He calls her his best friend. Maze pats him on the back, promises that they’ll talk later, and gets him to drink a bunch of water.

When Zach comes back, Maze disappears, presumably to take a turn in the bathroom.

Dan goes out on a limb and asks him for some advice—‘for a friend.’ His ‘friend’ is dating a really great guy, who wants him to move in. Some people might not like the idea. Dan’s afraid his ‘friend’ will become ostracized for it and wants to know what he should do. Zach tells Dan that communication is everything, and that his ‘friend’ might be surprised what will happen if he simply talks to the people he’s afraid of upsetting. It might not be as bad as he thinks.

They talk more about relationships, about connecting to other people. Zach tells him that he’s never had a problem being social, but he’s always been a loner by default. It’s only recently that he’s started to feel like his life is lacking something. He’s not sure if it’s a person, or a purpose.

In a moment of clarity, Dan suggests the possibility that it could be both, and that perhaps looking at it that way might offer him some new perspective. Zach is genuinely surprised and appreciative for Dan’s advice and gives him a firm side-hug.

By the time the bar starts shutting down, Maze shows back up. She herds them outside, where two Ubers are waiting. The demon loads Dan into the backseat of one of the cars.

Before she can pull away, he demands that she check in with him tomorrow—so they can talk. He insists that they pinky-swear on it. She swears, and then wishes his drunk-ass goodnight. Zach tells him he had a great time, thanks him for listening, and gives him a wave. Not two seconds later, Maze slams the door shut and drags him to the other car.

~*~

Dan never said and Maze never asked, so when he gets out of the Uber, he’s surprised to find himself standing outside his apartment, and not Lux. Well, it’s been a while; he might as well go in.

The car drives off. He drops his keys on the ground. Down the block, he hears a dog bark. He snatches his keys off the pavement and sighs tiredly as he walks to the front door.

There’s a soft _thipt_ sound and Dan winces and slaps his hand over the back of his neck. He holds out a small, thin dart, and then the world becomes dark and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO IT'S A CLIFFHANGER!!!
> 
> Don't get mad but...because of school, I can't promise when the next chapter will come. Starting last week, consider all future posts to happen whenever they can as time allows. Apologies for the inconvenience. I really wish I could keep up the weekly posting, but I gotta be real with my workload.
> 
> All the same, I hope you enjoyed this, even amidst the drama.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crime drama unfolds...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So terribly sorry for the hiatus. I considered whether or not to make this a big chapter. But I couldn't wait any longer; I want the story to stay fresh in your minds! So, lets draw this out just a little more!

**_Chloe (9:28am):_** Hey. I know I’ve been avoiding you, but I think I’m ready to talk.

 ** _Chloe (9:28am):_** Call me when you get the chance.

 ** _Chloe (12:23pm):_** Are you screening my calls, now? Please talk to me.

 ** _Maze (12:46pm):_** Heading over. Put some pants on.

~*~

Around one-thirty in the afternoon, Maze arrives at Dan’s apartment. She saunters up to the front door and gives three solid knocks with the side of her fist.

After no response, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She pounds on the door. “Hey! C’mon, wake up!” She waits, but nothing happens.

With a sigh, the demon pulls out her phone and calls him. To her right, she picks up the faintest _vnn-vnn, vnn-vnn_ sound. It’s coming from the trash can. Lifting the lid reveals a cell phone, vibrating and sliding across some cardboard.

She snatches it up. The front has a lock screen with a picture of Dan on it. He’s lying on the ground. He looks unconscious. The back of the phone has a piece of paper taped to it. Typed out, it reads:

I’ve saved the best for last.  
Still feeling lost?  
Look at the bigger picture.

Maze crumbles the paper in her hand, her lips curving into a snarl.

~*~

Chloe moves throughout her kitchen while she makes a late lunch. Trixie is watching something on TV, laughing. Her mother does her best to stay focused.

It’s ok that Dan hasn’t gotten back to her yet. But, it does feel a little strange—even if he’s not comfortable seeing her right now. He promised to give her space, and he’s been doing that, but somehow this doesn’t feel right.

Then again, nothing has felt right ever since Dan told her about him and Lucifer. And that she is a miracle. The longer she thinks about that, the more unsettling it becomes, because it’s starting to make sense.

She remembers the last time she landed in the hospital. Something changed between them. Lucifer had acted distant when she mentioned picking up where they’d left off with their growing relationship. And then he disappeared, ran away to Las Vegas, and married a plastic beauty on a whim.

Chloe knows it had to be a kneejerk reaction. He freaked out about them getting close and then nearly losing her. It was a coping mechanism. But as capricious as Lucifer is, she wonders, now more than ever, if there was more to the Vegas story, if it’s somehow tied to her being what she is.

A miracle…

The thought feels unsettling. She wants to justify it as being a good thing. Something she can accept. But no matter how she turns it around in her mind, one simple fact remains: she never had a choice. Did she ever have one of her own?

She tries to think more critically about it. Plenty of times in her life have been checkered with ups and downs, which means she has to have _some_ autonomy. Otherwise, why would she have the ability to make bad decisions in the first place? There wouldn’t be a point to that, would there?

And why would God make her expressly for Lucifer? What would that gain Him?

Maybe she’s a peace offering. Maybe it’s not about being made to love him, but to balance him out and act as a voice of reason. It has definitely been a large part of their relationship to each other.

But if that were the case, wouldn’t Lucifer have known about it? Chloe gets the impression that he didn’t know it when they met—that it was something he discovered later. It would explain a lot of his behavior over the years, with him seesawing from trying to get close to her to trying to stay away.

And despite all of that, they both fought to keep working together. It didn’t matter what conflicts they faced; they persevered and won. Or so she had thought.

When she came to terms with the truth, with who he was, with her feelings for him, and after he and Eve split up, it looked like things could finally smooth out. That nothing would stand in the way of them giving it a real shot, once and for all.

And then he left, and everything just…fell apart.

A tear slips down her cheek. She sniffs and wipes at her eyes.

The front door opens and Trixie’s excited voice from the living room shouts, “Maze!”

Chloe pops out from the kitchen and sees the bounty hunter looking on edge. “Maze? What’s going on?”

“Dan’s in trouble.”

“What!”

She’s about to answer when Trixie catches her gaze. “Is my dad ok?”

Maze flips the switch on her concern and gives the girl a light smile. “He’ll be fine. But I need your mom’s help and we’ll be out late so go grab your stuff.”

The little girl looks to her mom, worried. Chloe smiles reassuringly and nods, “It’s ok.” After Trixie leaves the room, Decker turns back to the demon, lowering her voice. “What happened?”

“Dan’s been kidnapped. I found this.” She holds out the phone and the note.

Chloe gasps when she sees the picture. She reads the note and furrows her brow.

“What’s it mean?” Maze asks.

“We’ve been working a case. The killer’s targets have all been people who live alone and have predictable schedules. But none of them had families—I don’t know why he’d go after Dan, unless…”

“Unless what?”

Chloe looks up from the note, “Unless this is personal.”

Maze frowns. “Who’s Dan pissed off this time?”

The detective shakes her head and goes for her coat. “I don’t know. I need to get to the precinct, go over whatever we might have missed.”

As Trixie emerges from her bedroom, Maze gives an upturned nod. “I’ll take the kid to your mom’s and do some digging. I can meet up with you later.”

“Thank you.” Chloe turns to her daughter with wet eyes and hugs her.

Trixie hugs her back and asks pointblank, “How bad is it?”

Chloe’s heart aches. She’s proud of her daughter’s strength, but saddened that it has to shine for moments like this. Still, ever since the last close call, Chloe and Dan decided to be more honest with Trixie whenever a crisis happens. They reasoned that it was better for her to be somewhat in the know as opposed to being blindsided should things go south.

She smiles and then straightens a lock of Trixie’s hair with a sigh. “Well, I don’t have all the facts yet, so right now it doesn’t look very good.”

“Are you scared?”

“I am a little—and that’s ok. It’s normal to feel that way. But your dad has a lot of people who care about him, so I think it’s gonna be all right. I’ll call you later to check in, ok?”

“Ok. I love you, mom.” She hugs her again.

Chloe gives her a squeeze. “Love you too, Monkey.” She closes her eyes and holds her tightly, hoping she hasn’t made any false promises.

~*~

Dan tries to keep his eyes open. His lids keep falling down. Every time he opens his eyes, he sees something different.

The ground outside his house. Someone staring down at him. Moving gravel. Or maybe he’s moving. The inside of a car trunk. It feels warm. Or he’s warm. Peaceful, enveloping darkness. A dimly lit building. Does he recognize this place?

Nausea. Violent vomiting. Choking.

A bright light blinds him.

Something heavy hits his back repeatedly. A rough cloth rubs over his face.

A voice says, “Jeez, Espinoza, it’s only a little heroin. You must have drunk _a lot!”_

Dan feels his face smile. He’s not sure why he’s smiling, but he doesn’t care.

He’s so tired. He feels weak. But it’s ok. _(It’s not)._ Everything’s ok. ( _No, it’s not_ ).

~*~

He starts awake with a snort. His back feels itchy. He can’t reach it. His wrists are tied. He’s hot. He’s sweating. His face is itchy. His arms. His legs. Everything itches. He starts to thrash and groan. The itch worsens. He’s—he’s tied to a pole or a bar or something. Whatever it is, it’s smooth, and offers no relief from the itch. He starts to shiver.

A brief sting of pain hits his neck and awakens his senses for a few seconds. Across the room, he sees someone and tries to commit what he sees to memory. Male. White. Tall. Blond hair (maybe white). Big shoulders. No facial hair.

Sweet warmth spreads through Dan’s body.

He tilts his head back and sighs. He relaxes against the pole, as much as he can while the ropes dig into his wrists and ankles. At least the rope is soft.

He feels heavy—in a good way. ( _This is not good_ ). He wishes he could lie down. ( _No_ ). The floor looks nice. ( _What’s that smell?_ ). It looks like it’s made of water. ( _That’s not right_ ).

Dan is surprised when he hears his own voice come out calm but syrupy. “Who are you?”

“Hey, there he is! Looks like you finally got a grip on that high. I wasn’t gonna hit you twice, but you were just thrashing so much I figured: what’s one last hurrah before you die, huh?”

The face isn’t familiar. Neither is the voice. But something about the way he talks. Something about this place… “Where am I?”

The man laughs and holds up his hands. “Ok, so—I admit, I got a little carried away. But once I got started, everything just kinda took off. Guess you could say I was inspired by—well, I don’t want to ruin the surprise. But, I’m sure if you put that detective noggin to good use, heroin be damned, you’ll figure it out.”

Dan can’t seem to feel upset by this. ( _He should be_ ). But it doesn’t feel that important. ( _It is!_ ). “What do you want?” he drawls gently.

The man grins. “I want to see what it’s like to put the Devil through Hell.”

~*~

On the way to the precinct, Lieutenant Field is the first person Chloe contacts. He tells her he’ll put the station on high alert and meet her there. She calls Ella next. She asks her to take a team to Dan’s place, do a sweep, see if there’s anything that Maze might have missed. Ella is already at work and assures her that’s she’s on it. Chloe tries to call Amenadiel, but it goes straight to voicemail. She tries Linda, but gets the same response.

She phones Maze and learns that Linda and Amenadiel left town with Charlie to go on a day trip, so they must be out of cell range. When Chloe hears whimpering on the other end of the line, the demon says that the Uber driver she got for Dan swears he saw him walking to his front door, but didn’t see him go inside. She believes him. She says she’ll question the bartender from last night next, and then head to the precinct. Right before hanging up, Maze tells her it’s going to be ok.

Chloe is grateful for the kind words; even if she’s not sure they’re true.

~*~

It’s nearly six o’clock when Ella calls with an update. Judging by the lack of forced entry and zero signs of disturbing the house, Dan never made it inside. He was most likely sedated the same way the other victims were. There are scuffs on the pavement and in the grass that suggest he was dragged behind the house and into the alleyway. She found fresh tire tracks in the ground leading away from the scene, and her best guess before getting them analyzed at the lab is that they belong to an SUV of some kind.

The information is somewhat useful, but Chloe feels no closer to figuring out where Dan was taken. There were no prints other than his on the phone and the picture of him looks like it was taken outside his house. The only real clue they have is the one the killer gave them, which hasn’t proven very useful yet.

As the night progresses, Zach and Chloe sift through Dan’s cases from the last few months. They’re looking to see if he might have gotten mixed up with anyone that would have it out for him.

Maze stares at the board with all of the crime scene photos and the two notes. She narrows her gaze on the second one. “What do you think he means by ‘look at the bigger picture’?”

The lieutenant lifts his head. “Well, the phrase on its own means to look at the whole story, not the fine details. It’s why we’re looking at Dan’s past cases—see if there’s a connection somewhere, something big he might have stumbled onto.”

“Right. And what if you’re wrong?”

He pulls his head back and gives her an amused look. “You questioning my skills, Mazikeen?”

Chloe flicks her gaze between them. She has a second to wonder about Zach’s use of Maze’s full first name, since it’s not often she hears anyone call her that—except for Lucifer and Amenadiel. But her curiosity jumps in a different direction before she lets the thought take shape. “What are you thinking, Maze?”

The bounty hunter shrugs. “This psycho gets a kick out of showing off. What if he’s being more obvious than you think?”

Zach frowns, “Like how?”

“Well, if he was saving Dan for last, then those other bodies are still supposed to add up somehow, right? Maybe looking at all of them at once would help.”

There’s a collective pause, and then Field walks past her. He flips on a projector and sits at a computer terminal. He brings up a map of Los Angeles that displays over a whiteboard on the wall, and drops pins for each location of the murders.

Maze raises her brow. “I meant rearranging the crime scene photos but—.”

“—No, wait,” Decker cuts in. “This might be something.”

Chloe walks over to the board and grabs a red marker. Her eyes scan the map for a few minutes; working out details only she can see.

She takes deep, even breaths to stay focused. She’s been keeping it together, but a small voice in the back of her head tells her with every passing minute, Dan’s chances grow slimmer.

She wishes Lucifer could be here. Maybe he’d have—

Something clicks in her mind.

The detective connects the four dots with straight lines, starting with the first victim they found and moving in that order from one to the next. Her hand hovers over an area that makes up a gap beside the other four locations, and then she adds a fifth point. She draws a circle over the whole thing to complete it.

When she steps back, her voice is hollow. “I know who’s doing this. I know who it is, but… _how?”_

Zach gets a closer look. The resulting shape Chloe made is a pentagram. He stares at the fifth dot. “What’s in that area?”

Chloe’s lip trembles and she lets out a shaky breath. “It’s a warehouse—on Palmetto Street.”

~*~

Dan blinks slowly. Getting his words out is difficult, but he doesn’t give up. “Do I know you?”

The man snickers and walks along a raised platform that extends on the opposite side of the room. “Guess I can’t expect you to figure that one out. It’s pretty easy to hide when you’re wearing someone else’s body.”

The faintest hint of horror moves across Dan’s face. His calm voice betrays the dread he knows he should be feeling from that statement. “What are you talking about?”

“You remember that little Hell revolt? I mean, I know you weren’t _there_ , but you’ve been in the know for a bit. Anyway, so there I was, suffering in agony, deprived of the things I loved, yadda, yadda, yadda—when some guy popped in to inform my torturer that some dude named Dromos was capping humans left and right, making them possession-ready for an all-out rebellion against Lucifer.

“And then they just left! Can you _believe_ that? Hah! And the best part? The door was wide open. I just stepped outside, saw one of those light beams that angel guided me through the first time I got out, and rode that happy trail all the way into this body that stands before you.”

Despite the warm, tranquil feeling running through Dan’s veins, a sinking sensation drops in his stomach. A flicker of sobering clarity takes shape. He sneers under his breath, “Malcolm.”

Malcolm takes a bow. “As I live and breathe—well—as this guy’s body does, anyway. I gotta say, it’s not a _perfect_ fit, but,” he does a little twirl, “not too bad, right? Honestly, with all the perks that came with him, I don’t think I could have asked for better!”

Dan licks his lower lip. His throat feels dry. “Who was he?”

He shrugs. “Some artist-type—dude was loaded _and_ a recluse—spent all his money on art supplies, home décor, _lots_ of dope and all kinds of shit to treat his habit. He OD’d—heroin, obviously. But, I guess his craving died with him. ‘H’ was never my thing; I’m more for uppers, but you remember that, don’t you, _partner?”_

Concentrating is tricky but Dan’s inquisitive side is strong, and piecing together the details helps to keep him on track. The thing Malcolm said about home décor sticks out. “That’s how James McMillan was involved. And why Diego Cortez let you into the warehouse—the man whose body you stole was a client, wasn’t he?”

Malcolm chuckles and wags a finger at him. “Now you’re gettin’ it! What else you got?”

Dan hates himself for being so casual about this. But Malcolm’s being chatty and Dan’s still pretty high. He might as well run with it. Besides, he finds the more he talks about this, the more his brain fights to be active. It also buys him time.

He thinks about the other two murders. “You said he was treating his habit. Is that where the Beverly Hills doctor comes in?”

Malcolm nods. “I told you, the guy was _loaded._ Man, I got lucky! When I woke up, there was this fancy-ass address book, a cash stash, and a box full of drugs right next to me. It was like a sign from the universe telling me, ‘Here’s the plan.’”

Dan keeps the conversation moving, even though he still speaks slowly. “Tara Simmons—the sex worker—she knew him professionally, didn’t she?”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t get technical on me—just say it: _the whore_ _fucked him on the regular_. You know, I could see why, too; once I got past the ribs, she was pretty cute—even after her uh, untimely demise.” He chuckles.

“You’re fucked up, man.”

Malcolm’s laugh persists and he points his index fingers at him. “No, _you’re_ the one who’s fucked up, my friend! I mean—sleeping with _the Devil?_ That’s pretty dark, Dan, even for you. Honestly—I didn’t know you had it in ya. Or should I say, ‘him’?”

Dan’s jaw tightens. “You won’t get away with this.”

“ _Well_ —I did leave a pretty big clue for your ex-wife. And I know Lucifer’s gonna hear about this as soon as those baby blues of yours close. _And_ , shocker—I do know what happens to Morningstar whenever Decker gets close to him.”

Dan stops breathing for a second.

The humor drops from Malcolm’s voice. “That’s right. I’ve been listening. Once I came back, got my bearings, the first thing I did was bug your car. And, _oh man_ , you sure do have some entertaining conversations in there. You know, I was planning on doing this whole thing with Chloe as the final touch so I could mess with you and Lucifer. But then you found out the truth and hooked up with Satan. And boy, oh boy, did _that_ change my plans for the better!”

Dan swallows and takes a deep breath. “You’re so screwed, Malcolm. You just don’t know it yet.”

“That’s some big talk for a man who’s ‘bout to die.”

“Right back at you, _partner_.”

There’s a brief flash of uncertainty in Malcolm’s gaze, and then he smirks and withdraws something from his coat pocket. “I think you’ve been conscious long enough. How ‘bout, uh,” he rolls a few cartridges in his palm and then holds one up. “A little valium nap.” He loads it into a dart gun.

Dan starts to protest when he hears the _thpt_ sound and is stuck in the neck again. He sucks in a breath and then lolls his head down when he exhales. As his eyes flutter closed, his last thoughts are of Lucifer.

~*~

Lucifer wanders the halls of the damned, thinking to himself.

He’s trying not to worry.

He hasn’t heard from Daniel all day, in Earth-time, of course. He supposes he shouldn’t be so concerned. When they last spoke, Daniel told him he’d be going out drinking with his boss, and it was quite possible that they’d be out all night. Lucifer told him to have fun, and that he’d stay away so Daniel could let his brain cells do minimal work while he slept.

Lucifer assumed that he’d hear from him sometime the next day. It’s become a fast-held habit for Daniel to send him sensations whenever he eats anything. But that was not the case today. Too bad, really, he was looking forward to something greasy and filling. Perhaps Daniel’s hangover was strong enough that he didn’t feel like exerting the effort.

Still…

Something seems off, and he doesn’t know what to think of it.

Is he being too clingy?

Possessive?

Spoiled?

Spoiled definitely seems to fit. He likes to think that his anticipation and expectations are well-justified, on account of the vast time differences between them. He looks forward to every moment Daniel shares with him. It gives him strength, both literally and metaphorically.

Has he become dependent on him?

Of course not! The Devil depends on no one. Never has. Never will.

However, things _are_ different now.

He regrets that he and the Detective could never manage to get anything off the ground. And when he returned to Hell, it felt, as much as he loathes thinking it, like a sign. Like he’d missed chance after chance, and by the time they were both finally ready, it was too late, and he was punished for his indecision, for his refusal to commit to something that terrified him as much as it gave him joy.

Daniel feels like a second chance, and an unexpected one at that.

There was always something Lucifer found irritating yet alluring about him. Daniel was right: even amidst their squabbling, Lucifer never feels like he has to be ‘on’ when he’s around him. Maybe that’s why things started working so well and so fast between them: they had to spend years getting over themselves to do it. They put in the time without even realizing it. Perhaps it’s the freedom in that, which he gravitates to so heavily.

And now, he is happier than he’s been in a long time, and he is committed to staying that way, whatever the cost.

He smiles, only to let it drop back into a frown.

Is he only with Daniel because he’s trying to fix what went wrong with Chloe?

Is he just imagining how he feels because he wants it bad enough?

Maybe he still doesn’t know what he really wants at all.

No!

That’s ridiculous!

Lucifer glares up at the foreboding, towering stone columns that line the pathway. His brooding thoughts are obviously being magnified by the Hellscape again.

He rolls his eyes and storms off down a different path when a sudden bout of lethargy overcomes him. He stumbles forward, pressing a hand against the stone for support.

A voice, faint, but familiar, reaches out to him. _Lucifer, help me._

The Devil flashes his burning red gaze skywards and snarls. _Who would dare?_

With a roar, his wings burst from his back and he launches upwards, heading straight towards Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up! I hope to resume my weekly schedule, although, FYI, we are definitely nearing the end of this story! BTW, does anyone have an interest in a sequel/continuation of these character's lives?
> 
> A note on the map: All of the locations of the murders really do make up the pentagram. Here is what it looks like, sans the circle, since I thought it would look clunky. https://imgur.com/a/E8YcZYs


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger! Excitement! Soup!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for your patience. I hope you like what I have in store. A lot happens in this one.

The Devil drops down to the rooftop of a building in downtown L.A.

Rage courses through every fiber of his being. He fumes through his nostrils, his eyes glowing red. He needs to find Daniel. He will _end_ whoever harmed him, celestial rules be damned.

But Daniel’s inner voice was weak, barely a whisper of what it usually is. His mind was clouded and he sounded drugged. Lucifer had hoped that being in the same realm would allow their bond to better resonate between them. He has to focus.

He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. He exhales and slowly turns in a circle, hoping to pick up on something—anything—that might indicate which way he should go.

A slight, magnetic tug brushes over him suddenly. _There_.

He opens his eyes. He’s facing east. With a pronounced _whoosh_ he spreads his wings and takes off.

_Hold on, Daniel. Hold on, for me._

~*~

When he lands again, he finds himself in front of a strangely familiar building. It’s a warehouse—long abandoned, by the looks of it. His brow narrows as he comes up to the front door. He tries the handle. It’s locked, but it’s not like that’s ever been a problem before.

The moment Lucifer steps inside, a wealth of memory pours in.

This was the location of the Palmetto case, where Daniel had begun keeping secrets and the Detective had been accused of lying about what really happened. That pitiful bastard with the porn stache, Malcolm Graham, had been at the center of it all.

But he’s long dead and in Hell—or at least, that’s where he’s supposed to be. Unless…

A loud, piped-in voice suddenly fills the space around him. _“Damn, I know you guys are fast but that’s gotta be a record! Dan’s only been out a few minutes.”_ The voice is unfamiliar, but there’s no doubt in Lucifer’s mind now who he’s dealing with.

He whirls around, searching. His eyes settle on a surveillance camera in the far right corner of the room, a speaker beneath it. A wicked look comes over his face. “Malcolm Graham. Weaseled your way out again, I see. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure it’s a one-way trip this time.”

He strides towards the next door. If memory serves, it leads to a long hallway, and then the main room, which is most likely where Daniel is.

Malcolm’s voice carries through more speakers along the way _. “Oh, I think not. See, I’ve had nothin’ but time to figure this one out. Can’t say the same for your boyfriend, though. It ain’t good for his lungs what he’s breathing in. Better hurry.”_

Lucifer storms through the corridor and has to take a short flight of stairs, which he doesn’t remember being there. He ignores it and growls, “Toying with my sympathies, Malcolm? You really think it’ll be that easy to dissuade me from hunting you down so I can feed you your own teeth?”

Laughter comes through the speakers. _“As a matter of fact…I do.”_

When Lucifer comes to the end of the hall, he stops dead in his tracks. His heart sinks. A glass window in the door reveals Daniel, unconscious and tied up to a pole at the far end of the room.

He rips the door off its hinges and steps inside.

The place reeks of kerosene. The floor looks eerily smooth and dark, several feet lower than he remembers it. He realizes he’s standing on a raised platform, which runs along the wall and ends at the far right side of the building. A small, reinforced structure with a window sits there, where an unknown face with an all-too familiar, crooked smirk stares right back at him.

The Devil snarls and bolts towards Malcolm at full speed. He screams and slams his fists against the window. It blossoms with spider web cracks, but doesn’t budge. He does it again and again, each time spreading the fissures a little wider.

Malcolm holds out his hands. _“Double-walled Plexiglas, am I right?”_

Lucifer presses both palms to the window, his eyes burning brightly, breathing heavily. “Think you have it all figured out, do you? Think you _really_ know who you’re dealing with?” Black claws spring forth from his fingers and pierce straight through the cracks. A sinister chuckle bubbles from his lips.

For a moment, Malcolm looks worried and then he starts to laugh again.

It’s enough to give the Devil pause. “Why are you laughing?”

He leans forward, daring to get closer. _“I told ya, I thought this through,”_ and flicks a switch.

There’s a muffled _whumph_ from behind him and Lucifer whips his head around and his eyes go wide. “NO!”

The entire floor—a lined pool of water with fuel layered on top—ignites and spreads in a brilliant wave of flame. It’s a crude interpretation, but Lucifer knows exactly what imagery Malcolm is trying to recreate: The Lake of Fire. And Daniel is totally surrounded.

_“So which’ll it be, Morningstar? You wanna be the hero? Or do you wanna make me pay?”_

He turns to Malcolm and grins. “If you think this little stunt will stop me from saving Daniel or from killing you, then you’re gravely mistaken.”

 _“We’ll see about that,”_ he says with a wink.

Lucifer narrows his gaze and then jerks his claws free from the window. He focuses his attention on the rest of the room.

He flares his wings to fly across when the _whoosh_ sends flames spreading to the platform. Another burst like that and the walls will catch. He growls and carefully tucks his wings close behind him.

He climbs down into the burning ‘lake’ and begins slogging through knee-deep, fire-laden liquid. The flames stick to his clothes and his wings but do little else; a fascinating perk of his immortal status that he’s grateful for in this moment. The heat is noticeable, as is the fuel smell, but he can handle both easily.

Lucifer looks ahead. Daniel is still unconscious, which is probably for the best. He’d be taking huge panic breaths and struggling right now if he saw what was happening. The fire is burning the pole, but he’s high enough that there are still about three feet between him and the nearest flames.

The link between them feels unusually powerful, drawing Lucifer forward like a lure. They’ve never been physically near each other since they became bonded, so he was expecting this. Still, he wonders if it will wake Daniel once he touches him. He’ll be ready, should that happen.

He’s halfway there when the heat starts to get stronger. He’s suddenly sweating. The burning kerosene fumes fill his nostrils, making him woozy. It’s warm. It’s so warm. It’s—

Hot.

_Hot._

_HOT!_

Lucifer screams. His body is engulfed in flames. His skin sizzles and splits with blisters. The feathers of his wings catch like they’re made of paper. He staggers forward, suffocating in searing agony.

_So—much—PAIN._

He flutters his eyes closed and collapses beneath the fiery surface.

~*~

Chloe, Maze and the lieutenant pull up to the warehouse. Decker points ahead. “There’s an SUV parked out front. Zach?”

“On it.” He types in the plate number. After he gets a hit, he crosschecks it with their database. His brow furrows. “Vehicle is registered to a Campbell Phoenix, forty-nine, six-foot-three, blond hair, blue eyes, artist and art dealer, has two priors, both for possession of narcotics.” He turns to Chloe. “Is this our guy?”

The detective isn’t sure how to tell Zach what she knows. Malcolm’s behind this, she’s sure of it. But he’s supposed to be dead. She shakes her head. “He might be using a different name.” She swallows nervously. They’re running out of time.

He places his hand on her shoulder and looks her in the eyes, studying her face, and then nods. “Let’s go get him.”

The three of them step out of the car. Maze twirls one of her blades. “How bad can I rough him up?”

Zach’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Just keep him walking and talking and I’ll be happy.”

Chloe shrugs. “I wouldn’t be so generous.”

The demon shows off a sharp grin. “So what’s the plan?”

“You and I take the main entrance. He knows me and Dan, so he might know you, too.” She turns to Zach, “There’s a backdoor on the northwest corner. If he’s focused on us, he might think we came alone, maybe you can catch him off guard.”

Field nods once. “See you inside.”

“Be careful.”

“Likewise,” he says, and slips off to the back of the building.

Chloe and Maze head toward the front. The bounty hunter signals towards the door that is clearly ajar.

The detective takes point, withdrawing her gun. “That doesn’t seem like a coincidence.”

Someone screams inside the building.

They rush into the hallway. The smell of smoke fills the air.

Decker hesitates for a second, noticing stairs that were definitely not there before. She swears under her breath and moves faster. Her pulse races as she sees a door ripped off its hinges and orange light coming from the entryway.

She curves around the opening, gun first, and freezes. The floor is made of liquid fire. Flames are climbing up the walls. She stifles a cough. The platform she’s standing on is steadily being consumed. Dan is tied to a pole, unconscious.

A strange voice comes over a speaker system. _“There she is! Welcome to the party, Decker!”_

She turns and sees a man fitting the description Zach gave standing inside what looks like a panic room. She raises her firearm and steadies her breathing. “It’s over, Malcolm. We’ve got the building surrounded.”

He tsk-tsks and shakes his head. _“C’mon, Chloe. I was in the force for nine years. There’s no cavalry outside—that takes time. And we both know you wouldn’t waste another minute on the off chance you’d be too late.”_

She coughs and insists, “You have nowhere to run.”

 _“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong.”_ The lights in the small room suddenly go out, obscuring everything inside.

Maze zips past her and goes straight for the window, furiously bashing at it to break in.

From the depths of the fiery pool, a tall, red, leathery-winged figure bursts forth, roaring.

Chloe whirls around, eyes wide. “Lucifer!”

He turns, grimacing, eyes ablaze and voice booming, **“Detective! You have to leave!”**

A loud crash of the window being broken pulls their attention towards Maze. “He’s gone! There’s a trap door!”

Decker blinks away her shock and comes to her senses. She coughs again. “Manhole cover—west side!” The demon disappears. Chloe gives a fleeting, fearful glance to Lucifer.

**“GO!”**

She turns and runs out of the building.

~*~

Lucifer hisses between clenched teeth as the surface flames threaten to do him more damage. It’s not Hellfire, it’s not the Lake, but the pain is no less agonizing to bear. At least in his Devil form it’s more difficult for the flames to catch.

Just as the link between him and Daniel becomes more insistent, he senses a rapid shift in his body. Suddenly, the fire doesn’t hurt like it did moments ago. The Detective must be gone.

As he approaches Daniel, he reaches up to grab him when a door across from them is catapulted off its frame. He ducks just in time as it crashes into the pool, kicking up a wave that takes out some flames, and spreads more to the walls.

Lucifer looks past Daniel and sees—“Za’aphiel? What the Me are you doing here?”

Za’aphiel lurches forward but clings to the doorframe so he doesn’t fall in. He barks, “Saving Dan! What the Hell are _you_ doing here?”

“What’s it bloody look like?”

He gestures around the room, “Like you’re homesick!”

“Oh for the love of—make yourself useful and put out this fire!”

“Get him off of there and cover his ears!” he shouts. Blue-grey wings burst from behind him, the _whoosh_ sending more flames roaring high.

The Devil snarls and snaps the rope over Daniel’s ankles, causing him to immediately plummet into the water. He acts quickly. The moment they touch, a jolt of raw energy erupts between them, making Lucifer cry out and Daniel awake with a gasp. Lucifer barely gives him time to draw a complete breath before enveloping him with his arms and wings, hands clamping over his hears.

Za’aphiel holds his hands out in front of him, several inches apart, his wings beating backwards rhythmically. Hot currents of air coil and writhe like serpents from the gyration of his wings. A swirling gust pulses between his palms, drawing more momentum.

It rapidly grows larger and larger until it becomes a massive squall tightly contained within the room. Flames soar along the walls and race across the ceiling. The wind vibrates into a loud, dizzying gale.

It shudders, contracts. Za’aphiel _slams_ his hands together. The hurricane explodes outward in a deafening blast, shattering every window in the building and snuffing the fire out in an instant.

~*~

Chloe runs straight to the squad car just as the SUV squeals its tires to speed off. She barely has time to get into the car before Maze, already behind the wheel, peels out and begins the chase.

The detective leans out the window and aims. She shoots—shatters the rear windshield and causes Malcolm to swerve. It’s enough that they start gaining on him.

Maze deftly maneuvers through the traffic. Other vehicles on the road are already slowing or stopped as the SUV whizzes past them, scraping side mirrors and barely avoiding a head-on collision with a sedan.

Chloe sees an open up ahead—a mostly empty carpool lot to the right, concrete barricades dividing the road on the left. She shouts, “We need to get him into that lot! Cut him off after he turns!”

There’s no response but she trusts Maze to follow through. Once Chloe has a clear shot, she fires—once—twice. She hits his back right tire, pitching the SUV to turn a hard right as it fishtails against the divider.

Malcolm does exactly as she hoped and speeds directly into the carpool lot.

Maze floors it and flanks on the right, parallel to him. The detective wraps her left leg around her seatbelt and climbs out to lean across the roof of the car. She fires off another two rounds—the first hits the passenger door, the second makes its mark and pops the front right tire.

Rims grind and spark over the pavement. Malcolm loses control. Chloe slips back inside. Maze glances ahead and she screams, “HANG ON!” and rams the nose of the squad car to the left then swerves to the right. The SUV pitches and crashes headfirst with a streetlamp.

The demon eases on the gas first before braking, and then turns around to drive back. Once stopped, they get out and walk over to the wreck. The airbags deployed in the SUV. The windshield is busted and the front of the vehicle is snuggling the street light. Malcolm is scrambling to get out of the car when Maze yanks him by his hair, drags him out one-handed, and flings him to the ground.

Chloe keeps her firearm trained on him. Her eyes are red and glassy. Her pulse is in her throat. “You _used_ me.”

He slowly raises his hands out, wipes some blood from his mouth, and laughs. “I mean—how could I not? You know? You’re such a sucker for walking disasters; it was easy.” He grins at her with pink-stained teeth.

She moves in closer. “Why? Why go through all of this just to get to me?”

Malcolm raises his brow. “Well—I guess I _was_ kinda sore about you shooting me, but,” he pouts and shakes his head, “this was never about _you_ , Chlo. And—gosh, it makes it so much more tragic that you think it was. I mean failed relationship after failed relationship; couldn’t solve the crime in time to save the men in her life who don’t even want her—some miracle you turned out to be.” He laughs again.

Chloe breathes raggedly, ready to end this. She moves to squeeze the trigger.

“Decker, no!” Maze shouts, knocking her wrist just in time to glance the shot two inches from Malcolm’s head.

The detective’s tearful expression shifts towards the demon. Maze looks her in the eyes carefully, “He _wants_ you to kill him.”

Disoriented by the gunfire, Malcolm is whining, curled up, clutching at his right ear.

Chloe exhales and then blinks a few times, coming back to herself. Of course: death doesn’t hold the same meaning for him. He’s escaped from Hell before, why wouldn’t he try again? She sniffs and nods towards him. “Tie him up.” She takes a few steps back to clear her head.

A _whoosh_ sound comes from behind her and a strong breeze follows. She turns to see Lieutenant Zach Field. She gapes and pulls her head back. “ _Zach?_ You’re—you’ve been an angel this _whole_ time?”

He gives her a sheepish look. “I didn’t realize you knew the truth until tonight.”

“I—,” she turns to look at Maze, who is in the middle of hogtying Malcolm with a series of zip ties. “Did you know?”

She grins, and there’s a certain up-and-down flash of her eyes as she glances over at Zach. “Oh yeah.”

Chloe knows that look. She scoffs, looking between them. “ _And_ you slept with him, right, of course, because it’s you.” She looks back to him. “Am I—is there a reason you’re here? Are you like my guardian angel or—,” she lowers her voice, “did _He_ , um, send you here? Is this some kind of holy mission?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, I’m not a guardian to anyone, and this isn’t a mission. I came here to—.”

_Whoosh!_

“—meddle in the affairs of humans, bring about chaos and destruction, just like in the old days,” Lucifer says dryly.

Chloe turns to see him. He’s in a suit, back to his human visage, though his skin looks badly sunburned and is blistering a little. “Lucifer,” she says gently.

He smiles, his brow softening the moment she says his name. “Hello, Detective.”

She barrels into him with a fierce hug and sobs. “You’re ok.” She looks up at him, “Is Dan—?”

“—he’s safe, just resting. And I’ll heal up in no time, especially if—well, you know. I just came to sort out a few things before I return,” he looks towards Malcolm and his eyes glow. “I have some punishing to do.”

Chloe presses a hand to his chest. “Wait. He wanted me to kill him. Won’t taking him back to Hell give him another chance to escape it?”

His jaw tightens. His fiery gaze wrestles between the desire to listen and the need to unhinge. “Would you rather I let him live? Cheat death for a _third_ time? Prison will just be a resort compared to the Underworld for him.”

Zach moves closer to them, saying carefully, “You punish the souls of those who have crossed over, brother. This is my jurisdiction; let me do my job.”

The detective steps out of Lucifer’s embrace and crosses her arms over her chest. “And what exactly is your job, Zach? Are you even qualified to be my boss? Do angels have a police academy?”

Before he can answer, Lucifer scoffs, “Pffft! _Zach?_ Deary me, does Zachariel know you’ve stolen his nickname?”

“He hated being called that! I didn’t think he’d mind, so, on Earth, I go by Zach Field.”

“Oh, yes, I see—very clever. Hardly a stretch of the imagination, but I do enjoy wordplay, so, points for trying.”

The angel holds out his hands. “It’s simple. No human questions it. Can’t say the same for ‘Lucifer Morningstar.’”

“Do you know where you are right now? L.A. has more people claiming they’re Marilyn Monroe than the real woman had lovers. It’s the city of reinvention! No one bats an eye at me anymore than the rest.”

Zach gives him a look and then jerks his head to the sound of sirens closing in. He sighs and turns his gaze to Chloe. “We don’t have much time. I promise I’ll answer any questions you have—after we wrap this up.” He looks to Lucifer, his voice gravelly. “He’s not going anywhere. You have my word. We can talk later.”

Lucifer doesn’t look pleased, but eventually the glow in his eyes fades and he nods, and watches as Zach walks away to speak with Mazikeen. He turns back to Chloe and gives her an apologetic look. “I…I have to go.”

She nods and clears her throat. “Yeah, I—I know.”

He clarifies, “Not back to Hell, not just yet, anyway. Za’aphiel— _Zach_ —and I will need to discuss Malcolm’s fate first. If you’re willing, I’d like it if you were there. I think your insight into this matter would be invaluable.”

Chloe gives another nod, slower this time. She has so many questions. There is a lot weighing on her mind. But, one worry at a time: “If you’re here then who’s watching Hell?”

“Amenadiel. As soon as Daniel was safe, and—as soon as I came to my senses, I explained the situation and he went straight away. He’s prepared to wait until I’ve settled everything up here, and then I’ll return.”

Half a dozen police vehicles roll up and break the hush with sirens and all manner of flashing lights. Chloe looks at them and then looks back. Lucifer is still here, staring at her like it’s the last night they saw each other all over again. She swallows and steps closer to him. “Will you be at the penthouse?”

“Yes. Daniel will be too—I—I hope that’s all right. It was the safest place I could think of, being totally empty of psychopaths and six floors from ground level.” He tries for a light smile.

She manages to smile back and bobs her head. “Yeah, that’s fine. It is safe. Thank you, for saving him.”

He cups the side of her cheek. “I hope you know I would have done the same for you, Detective.”

Chloe kisses the inside of his hand. “I know.” She sighs and steps back. “You better go before anyone sees you.”

He glances over, catching sight of a familiar woman with a ponytail hopping out of a forensics van. “Of course; if Ms. Lopez sees me I’ll be at the mercy of her size sevens for not having said goodbye.”

They chuckle lightly together. Lucifer steps away until he’s well out of sight and in the shadows, and then he takes off in the blink of an eye.

~*~

Dan startles awake. Immediately, he recognizes that he’s no longer in the warehouse. And he’s—he’s in a bathtub—Lucifer’s bathtub. The lights are dimmed to a soft, golden hue.

There is a pillow behind him, a blanket on top of him, a pitcher of water to his left, as well as a small black trash can. He’s naked and smells like car fire. Lucifer probably didn’t want to shock him by hosing him down while he was unconscious, and for that, Dan is grateful.

His heart is racing from waking in a state of panic. He’s damp with sweat. The last things he remembers were…fire…Lucifer in his Devil form…oily water…an explosion. And then…was the city beneath him?

He takes a few gulps directly from the pitcher. His lungs ache. His head feels like it’s made of something heavy and unstable—it’s exhausting to think. Dizziness suddenly assaults him and he hastily snatches the waste bin and cough-pukes all the water back up.

His whole body shakes. He’s alone. But he’s safe.

He lets go of a ragged sigh that burns his throat, and then slumps back beneath the blanket in the tub and closes his eyes.

~*~

The next time Dan wakes up, he’s on his side, staring at the bath tiles. There’s an acute sense of _presence_ that radiates behind him. As he turns, he feels a distinct, magnetic pull move him, urging him to pass through the wall of the tub and snap together with what’s on the other side.

Lucifer is sitting on the floor, one knee drawn up, and his arm resting casually on top. His other arm is propping him upright. He smiles gently. “Hello, Sleeping Beauty.”

Dan gives a half-hearted smirk and then exhales. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two p.m.”

His eyes widen and he starts to sit up, “What?” His head spins and he suddenly starts coughing. He groans and flops back on the pillow. “What day?”

“Sunday. But not to worry, we have plenty of time to make up for the last thirty-six hours that were stolen from you.”

“How? You said it was almost two in the afternoon?”

Lucifer grins and leans towards him. “You’ve yet to know what it’s like to have the Devil show you a good time— _outside_ of the bedroom, at least.”

Dan chuckles softly through his noise, for fear that anything stronger might make him cough again.

He can feel their bond between them: a steady, almost tangible current of warmth and familiarity that insists on completing a circuit. It’s weird, but not unwelcome. He realizes it’s probably the reason why Lucifer hasn’t touched him. The sensation might be too intense right now for him to handle. He wishes it weren’t.

Grimacing from the way his throat scratches, Dan croaks, “Tell me what happened.”

“I came as soon as I heard you. Malcolm, the little wretch, discovered my vulnerability around the Detective and tried to exploit it. Thinking he’d succeeded in his plot to destroy me, and you, he tried to get away. Mazikeen and the Detective caught him. He’s in custody now, isolated, and is being guarded ‘round the clock by officers he has no history with.”

“I’m—,” Dan grunts and winces, “surprised you didn’t kill him.”

Lucifer laughs bitterly and grumbles, “Oh, believe me I’d like nothing more than to rend the flesh from his body and watch him suffocate in a vat of salt and vinegar. But his is a unique situation. And, despite myself, it’s vital that I treat it accordingly. I’ve invited the Detective and my brother over tonight so that we can discuss it. If you’re not planning on getting kidnapped any time soon, I’d like you to be there, too.”

Dan smiles. Then, it suddenly dawns on him that Lucifer is really _here_. He knew that already, on account of everything that’s happened, and how their link is reacting, but he hadn’t thought about the implications of what it meant until now. “Then who’s going to watch over Hell? Who’s watching it now?”

“Amenadiel. He’ll stay there until a decision has been reached and then I’ll go back.” He hesitates for a second, and then explains, “Another of my siblings will be present for tonight’s little meeting. He plays an integral part in all this, and it will make sense when you see him. That is, of course, if you’re willing to attend?”

“Definitely not a conversation I want to have, but definitely not one I want to miss. Count me in.” He sighs, “I wish you were here for better reasons.”

“So do I,” Lucifer says quietly.

They stare at each other in silence. Dan lets his hand drift up towards to the rim of the tub. Lucifer’s fingers slip over the edge and reach towards him. As they draw closer, their link strains between them. It grows in intensity, tightening. Dan’s breath is shaky. Suddenly, he slumps back against the tub, and closes his eyes to ward off another wave of vertigo. “Damn it,” he utters softly.

Lucifer changes the subject. “When you called, I knew you were drugged. I have an exceptional grasp of human anatomy, but I find your physiology a downright mess and never bothered to understand it better. I felt you were safest here, so, I had a doctor come and draw your blood to have it analyzed. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dan raises his brow. “Honestly? That was a smart call. Otherwise, I’d probably wake up to you wearing a lab coat and wielding a pair of pliers and a bottle of whiskey to try and fix me.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes but chuckles. “I know the difference between medical science and back alley dentistry, Daniel. I’m not a complete dunce.”

He laughs, stifles a cough, and clears his throat. “Too bad, that would’ve been pretty entertaining.”

“I do have all three of those items in the penthouse,” he offers pleasantly.

“Maybe later,” Dan grins, shaking his head. He coughs again and asks, “So what did the doctor tell you?”

Lucifer folds his fingers together over his raised knee. “She explained that, even though you’re not a user, it’s possible you could experience withdrawals for upwards of a week. I made sure you have the next two off. Also—she gave me a strict regimen for you to follow while you detox.”

“How strict?”

“Although it pains me to repeat it: no substances of any kind—even legal ones—which means no alcohol, nicotine, caffeine, or pain medication. You could easily turn something benign into a crutch to satisfy a psychological dependency that’s just waiting to be fed. So! In a show of foolish solidarity I’m certain I’ll regret within minutes, I’ve decided to join you.”

Skeptical, Dan’s brow creases. “Really?”

“At least until I return to Hell,” Lucifer elucidates wryly.

“There it is.”

“Well, of course, I’d do it with you for the entire duration if I could, but…I won’t be here for much longer.”

“I know,” Dan sighs. They grow quiet again, and then he says gently, “I never said thank you.”

Lucifer shrugs, “No need, really, I just—.”

“—for saving my life. Thank you.”

He looks like he desperately wants to reach out to Dan, but he refrains from doing so and stares at him solemnly. “I dread what I would have done had I,” he looks away, “had I lost you. I wouldn’t be me anymore. I’d be something else, something…evil.”

Watching the tormented emotions cycle through Lucifer’s face, Dan takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No. You’re stronger than that. And the fact that it terrifies you proves it.”

“How so?”

“If you weren’t afraid of what it would do to you, you would have given in to it a long time ago.”

The Devil lifts his eyes and his lips curve upward. “Speaking from experience?”

Dan gives him an earnest look, “Maybe. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Lucifer tilts his head to the side and looks down at him thoughtfully. “Then I suppose I should be thanking _you_.”

“For what?”

“For saving me from myself—again.”

They smile at each other.

Dan wants so badly to hold him. He goes for the next best thing. He reaches out to him through the ether with a brush of gratitude and love.

Lucifer breathes in through his nose and closes his eyes. Soft laughter bubbles from his lips. “Do you know what’s interesting?” he asks, keeping his eyes shut as he basks in the sensation.

“What’s that?”

“Prayer is as much a form of communication as vocal speech or body language—for celestials, that is. But when it comes to humans, there’s a distinct dialectal difference.”

Dan curls onto his side. “How can you tell?”

Lucifer looks down at him. “With you lot, it’s all words first and basic feelings later. For angels, it’s pure feeling manifested into complex threads of thought and energy. And when it comes to you and I,” he smirks, “it falls somewhere in between and off to the side.”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

The Devil turns to fold his arms over the rim of the tub and looks at Dan with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yet another first: we’re developing our own tongue.” Lucifer stares at him with an intent gaze.

At once, Dan feels a very faint yet distinguishable caress run through him. He draws in a breath and closes his eyes. It spreads out, communicating a series of sensations that inspire words in his mind. _Love_ and _lust_ are what he’s able to discern, though there’s a lot more to it than that, he’s just not sure how to describe it.

And then, Lucifer tilts his head to the side and blinks. “What did I say just now?”

Dan furrows his brow but a smile edges on his lips. “You didn’t say anything, I just felt…”

“Yes, but what did the feeling _mean_ if you had to put it into words? Think about what we’ve been doing with food. When you started sharing things I found totally repugnant or bizarre, it wasn’t just a feeling; you knew exactly what I thought about it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. So then,” he looks away for a moment, thinking to himself. When he looks back, he grins. “You just told me what you wish you could do to me.”

Lucifer bounces his eyebrows and wiggles excitedly. “Now you’re catching on! Let’s try another one.”

A subtle wave works through Dan. This time he recognizes that there’s a controlled, organized way it spreads through him. Lucifer is being careful not to overwhelm him. Rapidly, the sensation takes shape and inspires more words—or at least, that’s the way he thinks of it. _Love. Intention. Guilt. Need. Fluid. Clarity._

Now that it’s been brought to his attention, Dan is starting to understand what Lucifer meant about ‘complex threads of thought and energy.’ With each word that comes to mind, more intricate interpretations branch off to create complete thoughts. It’s really weird. But there’s a comfort in understanding more about how their link works on multiple levels.

Lucifer looks at him like he can hardly contain his excitement. “So, what did I say this time?”

Dan can’t help but laugh. “You mean well but you desperately want me to take a shower.”

“Well done, Daniel! We’ll be having full conversations in no time! I’m sure that will come in handy should either of us finds himself unable to talk.” He grins flirtatiously. He stands up as though he’s about to leave.

“Question?” Dan says suddenly. Lucifer lifts one of his thick brows at him. “Is this because _you_ reached out to _me?_ The last time we were together?”

He pauses to consider that and then answers, “I think it would have happened on its own eventually. But yes, I suspect I gave it a boost. Why do you ask?”

Dan coughs a bit and laughs. “Oh, c’mon, this is huge, man! I mean, I’m doing my best to stay on track, but, bear with me, it’s a little hard to keep up with all of the cosmic stuff we get into.”

An intimate expression comes over Lucifer’s face. “From where I stand, you’re doing exceptionally well.” He clears his throat and straightens his vest. “Now, no rush, but the sooner you wash up, the sooner we can get on with our afternoon.”

“What time’s the meeting?”

“Eight o’clock.”

Dan pushes the blanket and pillow out onto the floor and turns on the water, letting it come to temp. “Six hours isn’t a lot of time.”

“We’ve been able to manage a lot in far less,” Lucifer hints.

“Now it’s my turn to remind you that I’m only human. I’m still kinda wiped. Also, do you even know what a refractory period is?”

The Devil snickers, “Only in definition. But don’t bother yourself with the details. You get cleaned up and I’ll take care of the rest.” And without another word, he gathers up the blanket and pillow and slips away.

Dan smirks. Once the temperature is to his liking, he settles beneath the shower stream. He heaves a heavy sigh he didn’t know he was holding in, and then a few tears fall, hidden beneath the water. He leans forward, pressing his arms up against the wall to keep him steady. He is exhausted, a little weak, but grateful to be alive.

~*~

To his surprise, Lucifer doesn’t immediately try to pounce on him when he finishes his shower. Instead, he presents him with a soft, black bath robe and a glass of clear electrolyte solution.

He takes both, chugging the drink as they head to the bedroom. When Lucifer goes to his guest section of his walk-in closet, Dan tells him which shirt and pants combo he likes best, and makes a shy request to borrow a pair of Lucifer’s silky black briefs.

“You really did make yourself at home over the week, didn’t you?” Lucifer muses as he gathers the clothes.

“Actually, that was the morning after I crashed here the first time,” Dan replies, rubbing the back of his neck when he sits down on the edge of the bed, setting his glass on the nightstand.

Lucifer recognizes his embarrassment and brushes it off when he sets the clothes on the bed. “There’s no need to be ashamed, Daniel. I’m generous with all of my lovers; you can help yourself to whatever you like.” Then he points a finger at him sternly, “Except for my suits! It may have worked to your advantage in the dream realm, but out here in the real world, if you want to parade around like you’re me, I’ll have to send you to my tailor first.”

Dan laughs, slips on the underwear and removes the robe. “Don’t worry; I promise I’ll keep my hands off ‘em.” He pauses when he reaches for the sweatpants, catching the Devil’s gaze moving over him keenly. Dan’s cock twitches against the silky briefs. His heart skip’s a beat.

With slow, deliberate steps, Lucifer moves closer to him. “How are you feeling?”

Their link seems to hum between them, begging to close the distance. Dan shudders, not sure if he’s overwhelmed with a need to touch or if he’s still feeling out of it. That should probably be his first clue. But he finds it hard to keep from staring at Lucifer just as intently. He gulps and manages to say, “Conflicted.”

Lucifer’s left hand moves slightly, as though he nearly reached for him but stopped short. Just that slight action produces a response from both of them and Dan’s stance wavers.

Lucifer lets go of a disgruntled sigh. “I can’t believe I’m the one saying this but I think we should wait. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time you ate was before you went out Friday night, wasn’t it?”

As if to confirm, Dan’s stomach growls insistently and another round of faintness starts to overcome him. He sighs, “Yeah. Not gonna lie, the moment you mentioned it, it’s suddenly all I can think of. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lucifer grins at him. “Anticipation can be an excellent aphrodisiac if circumstances are right. And I think ours is the perfect circumstance.” He swiftly turns on his heels to exit the room and says over his shoulder, “Now come along and eat something!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Dan replies, slipping on the rest of the clothes.

“So much for anticipation!” Lucifer chides.

“Guess I walked right into that one,” he says, sitting down at the marble countertop.

While Lucifer ladles some soup into a bowl from a large pot, he manages to glance at Dan with a seductive look. “If you were on my side of the counter, I can assure you, you’d walk right into something else.”

With unusually graceful movements, Dan watches him. He sets the soup down in front of him, one hand sliding back on the side of the bowl, like a lingering touch. He retrieves a spoon with his other hand, his slender fingers caressing the metal with controlled motion. He places it beside the bowl, and then picks up a glass of water and brings it to his lips like it’s anything but a simple object.

Everything Dan saw took only seconds, but it seemed to communicate volumes. He shakes his head. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you make everything so…sexy?”

The Devil grins at him. “Are you quite certain your appetite for food is the only hunger you’re facing right now?”

He gathers a spoonful of soup and says, “No, man, that’s just _you_. Everything about you is just…” Dan takes his first bite and tilts his head back, “Holy shit.”

Lucifer watches him, smiling secretively behind the glass. “I take it it’s to your liking?”

It’s just chicken soup—with wild rice, and a score of vegetables. And mushrooms. And herbs. And some cream. There’s a hint of something extra that Dan can’t place in there too. Some other spice he can’t name. But together, it’s all just so…

“Did you _make_ this?”

“Well I had to throw something together that would be easy on your stomach, but hearty and nutritious enough to give you a calorie boost so—soup it is.” Dan just stares at him. “What?”

He laughs and shrugs, raising his brow. “I didn’t know you could cook. I just always assumed you exclusively ate at restaurants—aside from your hoard of snacks you have on hand.” He continues to work on his meal, making sounds that really shouldn’t be attached to eating soup.

“I love to cook when the mood strikes me. It also keeps my mind from wandering into places that are better left for brooding in dark rooms with a bottle at your side.”

“You too, huh? You want to talk about it?”

Lucifer stares at him like he’s considering whether or not he should run. Ultimately, he sighs and takes a sip of his water, “There’ll be time enough for that later. Right now, we need to concentrate on getting you back up to speed.”

Dan takes a few more bites, savoring them, and then shrugs again. “Actually, I’m feeling a lot better now that I’ve started eating. You sure I really need to do the detox thing?”

“In truth, you’re only here and not under professional supervision right now because I made a deal, though I’m usually not the one who has to promise something first.”

“Seriously?”

Lucifer nods. “I gave her my word. Regardless of how good you feel, we’re not to take any chances. I hardly think you’re the type to succumb to addiction,” he finishes his water and stuffs his hands in his pockets, “but, as we clearly know, there’s a first time for everything.”

Dan gives a yielding nod, “Can’t argue with that.” He finishes his soup and another inappropriate groan follows. “Damn, that was so good. Is there any more?”

Lucifer smiles delightedly and ladles him up another serving. “Getting hooked, are we? Perhaps I was wrong about your lack of addictive behavior.”

“Hey, they say the way to a man’s heart is through food,” Dan laughs.

“Do you know—I have an exceptional recipe for chocolate pudding in my culinary arsenal. I should have ambushed you with that instead of trying to cultivate our little rivalry all those years.”

“ _Dude_ , if you’d done that, there’s no way I would have been able to stay mad at you.”

Lucifer sighs, gazing at him wistfully. “We were both very different then.”

Dan mirrors his expression. “We were. But I think we had to go through that in order to get where we are now, otherwise it wouldn’t mean the same thing.”

The Devil scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Personal growth, as Doctor Linda would say.”

“You know, for how much you complain about it, I think therapy really has helped you a lot.”

A soft smile peeks at the corners of Lucifer’s mouth. He gives an upturned nod and says, “You second helping is starting to cool.”

Readily picking up on the hint, Dan smirks and returns his attention to his soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. I know a lot of you were anticipating things to go a certain way. I really hope you don't mind the direction I went. There's at least another chapter (maaaybe two) left to go! Hope this adds a bit of joy to your weekend! See you soon!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans, backstory, drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE FINAL CHAPTER.  
> I'm really sorry this came so late. I've had a lot going on in my world.  
> Apologies for any typing errors--the moment I finished I was too excited not to share.  
> Thank you for your patience. Thank you all for taking this journey with me.  
> Thanks to GlitterSkullFairy for believing that I could do this in the first place.

Lucifer treats them both to an in-house couples massage by two lovely women wearing tasteful, matching burgundy uniforms and who don’t speak any English. Dan watches him chat with them in their native tongue, fascinated. If he had to guess, it sounds like Lucifer is working out very specific details for their session. There are a few glances his way, some nodding, Lucifer’s never-ending flirtatious mannerisms, and then the ladies get to work.

During his very thorough massage (lasting well over an hour), Dan notices that the woman working on him is being gentle over the areas where he was tied up. He wonders how Lucifer managed to explain that, considering that he has very obvious rope-like bruises on his skin.

That thought causes his mind to take a sharp turn, and the memory of the night before swims back into focus. His pulse speeds up. He’s about to panic. Beside him, just a few feet away on a separate massage table, Lucifer turns his head to face him.

Dan feels a subtle, soothing wave envelope him. There are no words to interpret, only sensation, but it’s enough to calm his nerves and he exhales quietly. He silently mouths, ‘thank you’ to Lucifer.

He smiles sweetly. Then he slips into a smirk, slowly bouncing his eyebrows. _Told you that would come in handy_ , the look seems to say.

After the massages are over, they’re wiped down with hot towels (Dan loves that part). They’re given full-body scrubs that make them smell fresh and slightly floral—but not too overpowering.

Following that, each of them gets a manicure, a pedicure, and, unexpectedly, close shaves (Lucifer just has his scruff sculpted a bit), and hair trims. Dan is feeling relaxed, spoiled, and loving it. Lucifer can’t seem to keep his grin off his face.

By the time the two ladies finish and leave, Dan finds himself sipping on more electrolyte solution while sitting on the sofa. Lucifer is at the piano, playing a tune Dan doesn’t recognize but still finds beautiful to listen to.

Conversation happens at a leisurely pace—mostly from Lucifer, talking about musicians he’s met throughout history, both well known and undiscovered. Dan asks him questions occasionally and comments from time to time, but begins to grow drowsy.

Lucifer assures him it’s fine if he falls asleep—in fact it’s probably best that he just focus on his body’s needs as they come, instead of trying to fight it. Dan curls up on the cushions, even though he protests going back to sleep. They don’t have much time to spend together, after all.

The Devil makes his point clear when he starts singing, easily lulling Dan with the melodic qualities of his voice and the music that follows. It isn’t very long before he starts to drift off, quiet and content.

~*~

When he wakes, it’s nearly eight o’clock and Lucifer has some herbal tea waiting for him. It’s warming and sweet; he can taste ginger and lemon. It’s not coffee, but it does perk him up a bit.

As Dan sips his drink, he says, “I’m still miffed that you let me sleep so much, but, I gotta admit: I feel pretty damn good right now.”

Lucifer is sitting across from him, a mug in his hand. “It’s all part of your recovery process. I figured it was the least I could do.”

Dan grins, “Oh yeah, and what’s the most you could do?”

A tempting look flashes through Lucifer’s gaze. He opens his mouth to answer when the elevator interrupts him with a _ding_ and Chloe enters the room.

He glances back at Dan with an expression partway between hesitant and apologetic. Then he stands up, a cheery disposition wrapped on his face. “Hello, Detective.”

She smiles long enough to say, “Hey,” when her eyes catch sight of Dan on the sofa. “Dan!” She rushes over as he stands up just in time to be embraced tightly. “I was so worried! I’m so glad you’re all right.”

He sinks against her and buries his face in the crook of her neck, fighting back the urge to sob. It feels so good to hold her. He’d been secretly convinced that once she knew he was at the penthouse, things would get awkward. But all of that melts away in the face of simply being happy to see her. “It’s ok—I’m ok. How’s Trixie?”

“She’ll be better when she can see both of us. She’s at my mom’s. I told her you’d need a little while to recover and I came straight from the precinct.” Chloe sniffs and leans back with a curious look on her face. “Wow, you smell _really_ good. What is that?”

Dan laughs and shrugs. “I don’t actually know.” He nods towards Lucifer, “He, um,” he swallows, suddenly worried again. Would it be weird to tell her that he got pampered all afternoon?

Lucifer either doesn’t take the hint or doesn’t care. “I spoiled dear Daniel rotten by bringing the day spa to him. What you smell, Detective is nothing short of the best personalized R&R treatment L.A. has to offer—with a hint of bergamot.”

She turns back to Lucifer. “Is _that_ what it is? I’ve totally smelled that on you before.”

“Oh, Detective, I wasn’t aware you noticed! I could order a session for you, too, if you like—you’ve more than earned it—though I think gardenia might suit you better.”

“I will definitely take you up on that, but first—I need a drink.” She looks between them. “What are you guys having?”

Bashfully, Dan takes a sip, “Nothing hard, just tea.

Chloe gives him a look. “Wait, you’re _both_ drinking tea?”

“I’m not supposed to have any substances that could become easily addictive for the next week, since I’m trying to detox from the shit Malcolm shot me with. Genius over here decided to show his solidarity by doing the same—until he has to leave, anyway.” He tries, but he can’t keep the bitterness out of his tone.

She picks up on it, but doesn’t call it out, instead turning back to Lucifer and cocking one of her eyebrows. “That’s awfully noble of you.”

He saunters over to the bar. “I have my moments. So, will you be joining us in pitiful sobriety, or shall I give yours the teenage prom treatment?”

Chloe looks at Dan, he gives her a nod, so she smiles and slips off her coat and sits at the bar. “Take me to the prom!”

“Splendid! One sugary, bad decision coming up!”

Just then, the elevator _dings_ again and Zach strolls in, Maze beside him.

Lucifer sees the demon and beams at her. “Mazikeen! I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Zach told me about the meeting—I wanted in.”

“Come to put in your two cents? Well, the more the merrier—in fact, your insight might prove quite useful for tonight’s discussion.”

“You’re awfully chipper tonight.”

“Full spa treatment.”

“Is that _tea_?”

“It is. I imagine you’d like something with a little more bite?”

She watches him grab a glass for her and she narrows her eyes. “ _And_ you’re making me a drink?” She scoffs and looks over at Dan. “Way to go, Dan. You neutered him.”

Dan shakes his head and chuckles. “Hey, I had nothing to do with it. This is all him.” His eyes dart from Lucifer and Maze and then to his boss. He assumed they’d be having a rather _supernatural_ conversation tonight, so then…

“Zach—what are you doing here, man?”

Field opens his mouth to reply and side-glances at Lucifer, who just stares at him with an expectant lift of one of his eyebrows. “I, um,” he steadies his gaze on Dan and sighs.

With a _whoosh_ , Zach’s blue-grey wings burst from behind him and spread out wide. Thankfully, he’s standing far enough away from the bar and the piano that he doesn’t hit anything in the room.

Dan’s jaw drops, and so does his mug.

~*~

No one says a word. Lucifer quietly sips his tea.

Thoughts begin racing through Dan’s head. The strange way Zach talks sometimes, his ability to drink like a fish, his story about his mother, the tingling sensation he felt from their first handshake—the glaring fact that Dan is a fucking magnet for supernatural beings…

All of a sudden he reanimates from his frozen stare. “God… _Damn_ it, Zach!”

The angel shrugs his wings away and frowns, “Hey—,”

“—No! I know what you’re going to say and I’m not sorry.” He groans. “I thought we were friends!”

“We are. Just because I’m not human doesn’t mean that changes anything.”

“Oh, c’mon! Don’t bullshit me, man. This was _never_ about being my friend—this is all about your mother, isn’t it?”

Zach is about to say something when Chloe cuts in with, “His mother? As in…?” she swivels on the bar stool to look at Lucifer.

He matches her stare and looks at Zach. “You’re here because of Mum?”

“I tried to tell you earlier, but, as usual, you never let me explain.”

“What’s there to explain, brother? If you’re here because of Her, then it must mean you’re still on Her side after all these millennia. Well—sorry to break it to you—but She’s no longer in this world. Time to find a new hobby to replace feeding her destructive whims.”

“She’s—She’s _dead?”_

“No, of course not! I just cut a hole in space and time and sent Her to Her own universe where She can be a tyrannical Goddess in peace!”

Decker holds up one of her hands, “Oh-ho-ho-wait a minute. Wait. Ok, I have questions.” She whirls around to Lucifer, “You _cut_ a hole in space and time and made a new _universe_?” The Devil opens his mouth to reply when she swivels to face Dan. “Did you know about this?”

He tilts his head back and forth nervously, “Uh, yeah—yeah, kinda. Amenadiel told me.” He walks over to the bar and takes a hand towel that Lucifer is holding out for him.

Zach gives him an amused look, “You’re friends with Amenadiel, too?”

Dan flashes him a glare and goes to wipe up the mess he made. He can hear Maze snort from clear across the room.

Chloe clears her throat. “I wasn’t finished.” She looks at Lucifer. “I’m assuming since I haven’t heard of any weird portals opening up and screwing with reality that what you did was _relatively_ safe?”

The Devil upturns his chin. “Earth’s reality remains intact, does it not?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Yeah, ah-huh. Moving on.” She whips her head to look at the other angel, “You. Last night, you said to Lucifer, ‘This is my jurisdiction, let me do my job.’ What did you mean by that, exactly?”

“Well, actually—.”

A loud _clink-clink-clink_ sound of glass being struck together draws everyone’s attention to Lucifer. “Ok, time to sort this disaster of a meeting into something more palatable! Za’aphiel—Zach—please have a seat over there. Detective, here’s that drink you requested. Daniel, sit down, darling, you’re starting to look faint, and Maze—,” she cocks a scarred eyebrow at him, he smiles and hands her a whiskey double, “never change.”

She grins and takes a hearty sip.

In a swift set of movements, Lucifer grabs another cup of tea for Dan. He hands it to him without touching him or making it obvious that it’s a strain to do so. He sits down on the piano bench, facing away from the instrument and sighs, extending a hand out to his brother. “Carry on.”

Zach sits at one end of the sofa while Dan stares at him from the other. He alternates his gaze between the two humans. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell either of you the truth; I didn’t realize that you were in the know. Anyhow, in your history, I was known as the wrath of _God_ on Earth. But, as my brother would be quick to point out, that would be highly inaccurate.” He flicks his gaze to Lucifer, inviting him to add to the conversation.

Smugly, he says, “Za’aphiel was secretly Mum’s favorite. We all share traits of both of our parents, but, none of us inherited Mother’s powers over the forces of nature quite like he did. Once the fight between Her and Dad really got going, he was basically at Her beck and call, whipping up whatever flavor of devastation satisfied Her mood that day. A right little lapdog if you ask me.”

“It was far more complex than that,” he argues. “I _thought_ I was doing the right thing. She assured me that it was. And that it would save our family.”

Lucifer is about to throw another jab when something about the way Chloe and Dan are looking at him makes him rethink his next words. He sighs. “You were being manipulated, brother. I can’t fault you for that; they did it to all of us.”

The angels exchange a look that seems both contrite and sympathetic. 

It only lasts a few seconds, but now that Dan knows a bit more about celestial communication, he realizes that he might have just witnessed a silent conversation. He doesn’t know what to do with that information, so instead he keeps the human conversation moving. “Zach, you never answered Chloe’s question.”

“Dan, I know you’re upset but—.”

Chloe interrupts, “—no, just—give him some time.”

Zach frowns but lets his gaze fall on Decker and nods. “In the old days, it was my job to punish the wicked on Earth. I was made to believe that humans needed to be reminded of their place in the universe from time to time, teach them humility in the face of their hubris, to make them strong. I leveled entire cities, wiping out their accomplishments to coerce them into rebuilding again and again.”

Dan huffs, “Now I get the architecture angle.”

Field flashes him a look and then continues. “But, things started escalating at home. Soon, it was no longer about teaching humanity to grow through perseverance, but about convincing our Father that humans weren’t worth it. And when I realized that it was just a means for Her to get vengeance on Him, that’s when She and I had a falling out.” Zach lets his gaze drift towards his brother, “And when I chose to turn my back on my family.”

A guarded expression tightens Lucifer’s face. “At least you had a choice.”

Zach swallows and looks away, turning back to Chloe. “When I finally pulled myself out of my shame, I decided the only way to give back to humanity was to use my gifts, but on their terms. So, I’ve been punishing the wicked through the laws set in place by humans, not by celestials. And no, there is no angel police academy; all of my accolades come from D.C.”

Chloe half-smiles.

Dan speaks up, his tone carrying a little more compassion in it this time. “You weren’t kidding were you? You really wanted to reconnect with Her.”

“I thought maybe it was my chance to make amends. I could feel Her presence on Earth, but I didn’t understand why it was so weak. It wasn’t until right before She disappeared that I realized She must’ve been trapped in a human body.”

Dan has his arms folded across his chest. He nods slowly, thinking to himself. When he notices Zach looking at him hopefully, he shakes his head. “Don’t push me, man. I may feel bad for you, but I’m still pissed at you.”

The lieutenant heaves his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Dan. And you have every right to be. I just wish I knew how to make it right.”

Lucifer suddenly perks up. “Oh! I know how—or rather, I could level the playing field, at least.”

“What are you talking about?” Zach asks.

“ _Lucifer_ ,” Dan warns.

There’s a moment where Lucifer actually looks like he’ll yield to Dan. And then his nature gets the better of him and he looks at his brother and smiles. “Well, it’s actually quite—.”

“ _Guys!_ ” Chloe snaps. She sighs and presses her hands together in front of her face, taking a deep breath. “You can all sort out the daytime talk show drama later. It’s been almost two days since I’ve showered or slept. Right now, I need a refill and we need to talk about Malcolm.”

A brief pause fills the room. Lucifer stands and straightens his waistcoat. “You’re absolutely right, Detective.” He goes to fix her a second drink. Maze snickers at him.

Chloe continues, “Last night, Malcolm wanted me to kill him, which means he must’ve figured out a way to escape Hell that he thinks he can use again. So the question is—how did he do it?”

Dan says, “The demon uprising gave him the opportunity. My memory’s a little hazy, but I definitely remember him gloating about how he got out. Whoever was torturing him left the door open and he stepped into a beam of light, like he knew exactly what it was.”

“That would be Amenadiel’s fault,” Lucifer points out. “If it weren’t for my brother’s ill-fated attempt to murder me by making a deal with dear old Malky when he died the first time, none of this would’ve happened.”

The detective frowns. “Wait, so Malcolm coming back after they pulled the plug was all Amenadiel? Why did he resurrect him to kill you?”

“Because he was too spineless to do it himself! When he told me to return to Hell, I told him to shove it. Malcolm was just a convenience to him—right place, right time sort of thing.” He sips his tea, a bitter look on his face.

She nods and turns towards Maze. “Had any demons ever rebelled before that incident at the Mayan?”

The bounty hunter shakes her head. “No. There was never any reason to. Hell’s got plenty of souls to keep us entertained. Even when he banned possession, there was a bunch of bitching and moaning, but no one fought him on it.”

“Was that out of loyalty or fear?”

Lucifer frowns, “Just what are you driving at, Detective?”

She gives him a look.

Maze knocks back the rest of her drink and pours herself another. “Well, _fear_ because he _is_ an angel; he could fuck ‘em up if he wanted to. But I dunno, loyalty, too, I guess. We do our jobs, we get to have fun; it’s simple.”

“So then if he told them to put a watch on Malcolm, like we have on him now, only, in Hell, you think they’d listen?”

“Yeah,” Maze shrugs.

Lucifer points a finger at Chloe. “But therein lies the problem, Detective: getting Malcolm _back_ into Hell. Correct me if I’m wrong, but neither you nor Daniel would feel right about killing him while he’s in police custody.”

Without even looking at each other, Dan and Chloe shake their heads.

Maze flicks her gaze to Dan and says, “What about—?”

“—No,” he clips.

“You don’t even know what I was going to suggest.”

“Yeah, I do. And I don’t think it’s the right approach—not this time, anyway.”

Chloe stares at him. “Dan, what aren’t you letting her say?”

His lip quivers and he averts his gaze. “Maze and I once…steered a certain person into a certain situation, ensuring they could no longer be a problem.” He glances up at Chloe and, just like that, he can see the divide between them grow a little wider. It hurts, but he’s pretty sure she’s the only one who can tell just how much.

Decker draws in a breath through her nose. “We can talk about that later.” She turns back to Maze and sighs. “Dan is right. Putting a hit on Malcolm, even if we made it look like an accident—it’s not the right answer.”

Maze pauses, considering, and then nods.

Lucifer clears his throat. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to play my own advocate and insist that we do _not_ keep him alive.”

Zach raises his hand, “Second that. I know I just told you I no longer follow judgment set in place by celestials, but, what he’s done goes beyond your human laws. It violates the natural order.”

“Precisely,” Lucifer agrees, pointing at his brother. “I’m all for second chances but he blew his fair and square. I think stealing a third out from under our noses should rightly be considered the biggest dick move in all of L.A.—which would be saying a lot.”

A thought occurs to Dan. “Wait a second, out from under our noses—are you saying had he not kidnapped me and gone on a killing spree, no one would’ve known he’d escaped?”

Lucifer pauses dramatically. “ _Potentially_ , yes. And even if it was discovered that he went missing, once on Earth there’d be no easy way to find him if he kept a low profile.”

“I’d find him,” Maze says.

The Devil looks at her. “If anyone could, it would be you. But we don’t need to find a missing person; we need to find a solution. So, why don’t we take a vote? My brother and I are firmly in the kill-corner; the Detective and Daniel are in the boring-corner, which means the decision rests in your capable hands, Mazikeen.”

“I _really_ want to kill him.”

“Wonderful!”

“But,” she looks from him to Chloe and Dan. “They don’t want that. And if you were smart, you’d know better than to push them on this.”

The corners of Lucifer’s mouth tilt down. “Well, didn’t think you’d be the one to pull that card, Maze, but, well-played.” He sighs irritably and looks at them.

They’re staring at him. He raises his arms and whines, “Well if we can’t kill him, then what? He gets to live out his _stolen_ life behind bars, living on three meals a day with no responsibilities and all the reach-arounds he could ask for? He needs to be punished, not rewarded.”

Chloe touches his forearm. “And he will be punished. We just have to find another way.”

Dan looks at them and narrows his eyes, coming to a realization. He turns to Zach. “You’re not invested in any of us like Lucifer is. So what’s stopping you from killing Malcolm yourself?”

Zach actually looks a little hurt by Dan’s words, but doesn’t bring attention to it, choosing instead to simply answer him. “It’s forbidden for an angel to kill a human. If there’s one rule among us that has never been broken, that would be it.”

Lucifer breathes in sharply through his nose. “Funny thing about rules: somehow they always find a way to get broken.”

Zach frowns. “Lucifer, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

The Devil gives him a defiant look, though the tension in his voice betrays his confidence. “I think I’ve said enough.”

Chloe squeezes her hand over his arm. Dan looks confused, but sends him a small prayer. Lucifer steadies his gaze over a bottle of untouched whiskey and doesn’t move.

The detective shifts the conversation. “How hard was it really for you to make a new universe?”

Lucifer’s eyes flick up to meet hers. He sounds distant. “Not hard at all. Strictly speaking, I just used the right tool for the job.”

“And what was that?”

“Azrael’s blade.”

“Who’s Azrael?”

Zach leans forward. “Rae-rae? Wait a minute—why isn’t she here?”

Lucifer starts to come back to himself. “I invited our sister to the meeting. Of course, she’s terribly busy, so she had to decline. She did, however, pop down to take a look at Malcolm for me. She said it wasn’t his time. I didn’t want to believe her but,” he looks at Chloe and Dan. “Clearly, if the Angel of Death is on your side, I should probably take the hint.”

Worry riddles Dan’s brow. “Is that the same blade that—that I almost killed you with?”

Chloe looks at him. “You _what_?”

Lucifer is quick to defend him. “No, Detective, it’s not his fault. On its own, the blade needs to fulfill its purpose of taking life. In human hands, its power is so overwhelming, it’s how that yoga class turned into one big game of stabby hot potato. When I went to recover it at the final crime scene, it was only thanks to Daniel’s exceptionally strong will and my negotiating skills that I got the knife from him before he could turn me into a shish kabob.” He smiles warmly at him.

Dan can’t fight the blush that creeps up in his cheeks.

Decker takes a moment to look at them, and then shakes her to head to get back on track. “So what happened to it?”

“I threw it in behind Mum, She sealed up the opening I’d made, and that was the end of it. Why do you want to know so much about it, anyway?”

“Well if it’s gone, I guess there’s no point. I just thought, maybe, if you still had it, you could open up a void or something and toss Malcolm into it. That way he couldn’t escape and he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Maze nods slowly. “Damn, Decker, that’s cold.”

Lucifer grins and takes Chloe’s hand in his. “Detective, I’m impressed.”

“Well, I mean, I dunno, it sounded better in my head maybe and—is it too cruel?”

“Nothing exists in a void, not even air. He’d suffocate, but he wouldn’t die. His soul would have nowhere to go, and he’d be trapped on the precipice of death for eternity. Is it cruel? Yes. But is it fitting? He nearly killed you and Daniel, so, I might be a little biased when I say: absolutely.”

She considers that for a moment. When she comes to a decision, she looks him in the eyes and asks, “All we have to do is get the blade, cut a hole in reality, and shove him in?”

“It would take seconds,” he says reassuringly.

Chloe nods slowly, “Ok, then let’s get the blade.”

Dan stands up and takes a few steps towards them. He may or may not be feeling just a teensy bit left out (jealous). “But you said you threw it into the other universe. Doesn’t that kind of mean it’s gone forever now?”

The angels and the demon all exchange an anxious look, like children caught keeping a secret.

Putting his hands on his hips, Dan sighs. “This is about to get real weird, isn’t it?”

Lucifer cocks one of his eyebrows at him, as if to say, _weirder than what we have?_

He takes note of the way Dan looks-but-doesn’t-look at his hand clasped in Chloe’s. He squeezes it and moves away to pace across the room, his hands in his pockets. “That depends. You’ve both been exposed to the forces of the divine and the infernal long enough to know that reality isn’t quite what it used to be. I could continue to reshape your understanding of it and run the risk of sending you both into fits of mind-blown catatonia or, we could move forward and carry on like it’s just another day at the office.”

Chloe and Dan look at each other. Despite the most recent obstacles that threaten their friendship, years of close proximity and experience allow them to study each other’s expressions in a heartbeat. It’s not the same as how Dan and Lucifer are learning to communicate through their link, but the results are similar.

She draws in her lower lip and bobs her head, looking back to the Devil standing in the center of the room. “I think moving forward is probably best right now.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Dan nods.

“Lovely,” Lucifer purrs.

The detective takes a breath. “Ok, great. So, the blade is at your Mom’s new place, and we need to get in touch with Her. So, how do we do that?”

Lucifer swallows and flicks a cool gaze over to Zach. “I do believe that’s where you come in, brother.”

“Me?”

“You are Mum’s favorite, after all. And you do possess more of Her particular brand of power than the rest of us. As far as I’m concerned you’re the best conduit we have to try and reach Her.”

Zach scrunches his brow. “It’s not exactly like we parted on good terms, Lucifer. What if She doesn’t want to listen?”

“Oh, I think She will,” he says tersely. “If you had showed up just a few years earlier, you’d know that She was desperate to reconnect with Her children. So desperate, in fact, She was prepared to kill the Detective—to lay waste to _all_ of humanity, unless Amenadiel and I gave Her what She wanted so She could march on the Silver City and claim Her revenge on Dad all over again! I was able to send Her away, but if She heard Her little demolition expert calling, I’m sure She’d leap at the chance to respond.” He turns and walks away in a huff to stare out at the city.

Chloe looks like she might get up and go to him, but she stays put on the bar stool. Perhaps she knows better than to coddle him right now.

Dan doesn’t know better. He wants to go to him. He thinks he’s strong enough now to withstand whatever might happen once their link clicks them together. But now, in front of others, is just not the time. He would have no clue how to explain it, anyway.

He sighs and gives an upturned nod toward Zach. “So if you’re the key to getting Her attention, how would we go about doing that?”

“A ceremony should do it—if we had all the right components.”

Chloe asks, “What do we need?”

Zach leans back into the sofa, folding his hands behind his head. “We’d either need a large gathering of people who are all on a similar wavelength of belief about the origin of creation. Or, we’d need a small gathering of a people who are connected to Her in a more personal way, so that the wavelength of belief can be maintained.”

Decker chuckles but not like she’s happy, “Well, I think we can rule out doing the large gathering, if Her attitude towards humanity is anything to go by.”

Dan knows there’s gotta be more to it than that. “What else do we need? Offerings of some kind, maybe?” For the briefest moment, his mind takes a sharp turn. _Please don’t be human sacrifices, please don’t be human sacrifices._ He blinks. If that’s what it took, they might as well just shoot Malcolm after all.

“Yes. Food would be a good place to start—nothing prepared though, everything would need to be in its natural state, or as close as you could get it.”

Lucifer swivels around on his heels. “Hang on—what if we did a bit of both?”

Field gives him a bemused look. “Both?”

“What if I reopened Lux, threw one party downstairs and the other up here? The collective energy from the club would most definitely amplify our own. It wouldn’t be directed at Mum, but I can guarantee the mood would be unified.” He makes eye contact with Dan and Chloe. “We wouldn’t be interrupted, thanks to Maze for putting a code on the lift. And once Mum sees Her star progeny, I have no doubt She’ll be far too distracted to even think of stepping outside the penthouse. And! Bonus: we’ll have an afterparty to go to once all is said and done!”

Dan smirks at him. “Leave it to you to find any excuse to have a party.”

Lucifer grins, “Always. But in this case, it’s also the best way to coax a deity down to the Earthly plane.”

Zach nods. “He’s right. If there’s one thing Mom likes about humans, it’s when they celebrate in Her honor.”

Maze chimes in, “Can I kick Her ass if She tries anything?”

“Absolutely,” says Lucifer.

“I think you’d kick my ass if I tried to stop you,” says Zach, smiling at her.

She gives him a smirk, “More fun for me.”

The Devil’s brow knits together as he watches them. A slow grin spreads on his face. “ _Well_ , seems my divinity really has rubbed off on you, Maze—you’re starting to collect angels like a preteen collects Pokémon.”

The demon huffs a laugh. She pushes off the back of the bar and walks over to Zach and stands beside him as he sits on the couch. “Actually, that’s another reason I’m here tonight. Zach wanted to offer you a proposition.”

“Oh—well, while you know I’d do almost anything for you, Mazikeen, I’m afraid a threesome with one of my siblings is off the table.”

“No, idiot—he wants to take over Hell and I want to go with him.”

“I—,” Lucifer stammers and blinks. He looks to Dan and Chloe and then back to his brother. “Are you… certain about that?”

Zach leans forward and clasps his hands together. “I am. In fact, it was Dan who gave me the idea—indirectly, at least—and Maze who made it into something concrete. I’ll be honest, Lucifer—I’ve been restless on Earth the last few centuries. As I said to Dan, I didn’t know if what I was looking for was a purpose or a person. He suggested that maybe it could be both. And then I met Maze, and I realized what it was that I was missing.”

Lucifer’s expression is thoughtful, and his voice soft. “You really do take after Mum, you know. You were always so ambitious, and you had Her fire, but it was tempered with an independent spirit that was all your own. I was certain you’d end up joining me in the Underworld, sooner or later. Truthfully, I was a bit disappointed it never happened, not that it matters now. In any case, I understand. Like our Mother, you’re a force of nature that no longer wishes to be contained by the constraints of this realm. You desire a proper playground and an audience to show off what you do best. It’s no surprise that Maze could remind you of that part of yourself; she’s good at finding out what makes people tick. Consider yourself very lucky that she likes you. And if you think she’s a Hellion now, just wait ‘til you see her at home.”

“So, is that a yes?” he asks carefully.

Lucifer seems unable or unwilling to respond.

Chloe swallows and does her best not to show just how much she’s waiting on a single word.

Dan frowns. It’s like he’s speechless. Lucifer is never speechless, usually just the opposite. Worried it’s a bad sign, he sees no one looking his way so he dares to close his eyes and concentrate.

He understands how difficult it can be to distance from something that’s helped to shape him as a person, regardless if it was for better or worse. He promises Lucifer that he’ll support whatever decision he makes, even if it means that he won’t relinquish Hell to someone else. He’ll be there for him, no matter what.

Lucifer draws in a quiet breath. His gaze passes over Dan, who gives him a very slight nod. He looks to Chloe. She smiles at him, hope filling her eyes.

When he looks back to his brother and Maze, he tilts his chin up, “Two conditions. One: you mustn’t change the rules I’ve created. They’ve been in place and worked for so long, I fear any change would only upset things.”

Zach cranes his head up to the side to look at the demon. She gives him a half-shrug and a nod. He looks back to Lucifer, “Fine. And the second one?”

“Should I ever feel the need to drop in, I want full seniority rights.”

He huffs a laugh and nods. “If you’re there, then you’re in charge; I get it.” The lieutenant stands up and walks over to him. “You always did like being first.”

“And you always liked being the best.”

“I thought that was Amenadiel’s job?”

“In Father’s eyes, perhaps, but you never flaunted it like our dear brother did every chance he got. That makes you just a bit better in my book.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you.”

“You caught me in a good mood—some poor imbecile just offered to take Hell off my shoulders so I could live life to the fullest. I’d like to tell him he got the short end of the stick, but, something tells me he won’t see it quite that way.”

Zach grins at him and they shake hands. “Maybe it’s just the thing he needs.”

“Maybe,” Lucifer says, smirking at him. He lets go of his hand and makes eye contact with Maze, taking a few steps in her direction. “So, homeward bound, then? Is this a permanent thing, or just a little family visit?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t know if this is where I belong. But I won’t know for sure unless I go back, so, for a while, at least.”

Chloe gives her a heartfelt look. “Maze, what about Linda? And Trixie—and everyone? You have family here. We’d miss you.”

Mazikeen smiles lightly. “Thanks, Chloe. I’ll miss you, too. Linda will be fine. She’s got her hands full, anyway. Trix is a tough kid, she’ll understand. This is something I gotta do—for me.”

Lucifer pipes up, “And between three angels, it should be no trouble to pop in for a visit now and then.”

She grins, “Exactly.”

A momentary lull passes between everyone, and then Lucifer makes a single, loud _clap_ with his hands. “Right! Well I think it’s time we brought this meeting to a close and made some final arrangements. Zach, how long do you need to get your affairs in order before you can take over?”

“About a week?”

“Perfect. Let’s set the date for the following Saturday. I’ll have it all ready by then.”

Zach jerks his head back, “Can you really organize everything in that amount of time?”

“I’m the Devil, brother; throwing parties is what I live for! Maze? What about you?”

She shrugs. “I’ll be ready.”

“Do you think I could persuade you to assist me during the week? No one knows how this place operates better than you.”

“You gonna pay me?”

He laughs, “You’re going back to Hell, what good would money do you?”

“That’s my business. You gonna pay me or not?”

“All right, all right, no need to get your knickers in a bunch. I’ll gladly compensate you for your time.”

The demon crooks a scarred brow at him.

His lips twitch into a smile, “At double the rate.”

She nods her approval and signals to Zach that she’s ready to go. She looks back to Lucifer. “Call me tomorrow—after ten.”

“Ten-oh-one it is then!” he beams brightly.

Maze rolls her eyes and walks over to Chloe. They hug each other tightly and exchange a few soft words and nods. Then Maze looks over at Dan and smiles, “Sap.”

He chuckles, “Slave driver. Have a good night, Maze.”

She throws him a peace sign with her fingers and heads towards the elevator.

As Zach follows after her, he bids Chloe and Dan good night with a silent wave.

“Hey Zach,” Dan calls.

The angel stops and turns.

“We’re ok, man. We’ll talk later.”

He smiles and gives him another wave. Then, he and Maze are gone.

Chloe is closer to Dan so she goes to hug him first. There’s a bit of tension between them, he can feel it. To try and diffuse it, he says softly, “Thanks for catching the bad guy. You’re awesome.”

She laughs softly and hugs him tighter, “Just doing my job!”

They lean back to look at each other. He smiles at her like things never changed. “Still awesome.” For the briefest moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of how she used to look at him.

Chloe squeezes his upper arms and steps out of his embrace. She goes to get a hug from Lucifer, moving up on her tiptoes to get close. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“Of course, I’d never let anything happen to our Daniel.” Over Chloe’s shoulder, Lucifer’s eyes widen, as though he only just realized what he’d said.

Dan’s brow raises high as he mouths the words, _our Daniel?_

Lucifer gives him a flustered look.

Chloe leans back, either not having heard him right or pretending not to, and smiles brightly. “Maybe you and I could catch up over lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh, why that would be lovely!” Lucifer purrs. “Since I’ve been back, I’ve had the strongest craving for one of those deli sandwiches from that shop on Fairfax that we used to frequent.”

“That sounds great!” She looks at Dan with those big doe eyes and smiles playfully. “Is that ok with you?”

He blinks, totally unsure of how to do _anything_ in this moment. “Uh…yeah—sure, yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great, ok. Well, I am exhausted and I still need a shower, so I’m gonna get going. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” She starts walking backwards towards the door. “Have a good night, you guys!”

“Good night, Detective.”

“Drive safe, Chlo.’”

She smiles at them both and waves, and then disappears into the lift.

~*~

Both men let out a long sigh of relief.

They should probably talk about the extremely awkward moment that just happened.

But now that they’re alone…

Dan licks his lips. Lucifer draws in a breath through his nose. Their gazes bore into each other. When Dan takes a step towards him, Lucifer instinctively reaches for a remote that’s on the end table that’s closest to him. He presses a button and the lights go out.

They collide together; mouths, tongues, hands, legs. They cry out; gasp, shudder, and writhe. All at once, it feels like every nerve in Dan’s body is suddenly awake, alive, thriving. It almost hurts with how strong it feels, and yet he can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else right now.

The magnetized sensation of their link makes it difficult for them to pull apart long enough to strip down. But fortunately, Dan is only wearing three articles of clothing and Lucifer is Lucifer. Both of them let out long, guttural groans the instant their skin touches, warm and smooth and hard.

Dan kisses him like it’s the only thing that matters. Right now, maybe it is. He pushes forward until Lucifer lets out a snarl, his back slamming into the glass door to the balcony. Dan grins between kisses. Lucifer smiles and bites at his lip and down along his throat.

Somehow, they manage to make it out onto the balcony. The moon is high in the sky and waxing. It’s enough to wash their bodies in a pale blue shade.

Lucifer grits his teeth when Dan shoves him onto his back against the deck. He runs his long fingers through his hair and down his shoulders. He wraps his hands over his biceps, digging his nails in.

Dan is on his hands and knees, his cock bobbing between his legs, throbbing. He stares down at Lucifer beneath the moonlight and a toothy grin pulls at his face. “Man, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

The Devil draws in his lower lip beneath his teeth and chuckles darkly. “Is talking all you can do, Daniel?”

Dan shudders and goes in for a rough kiss. He whispers, “Do you need me to shut you up?”

“I need you to fuck me. Now.”

“Greedy bastard,” he hisses.

“You love it,” Lucifer growls.

“I do.”

Dan kisses him once more, then spits into his hand and slicks himself up. He wraps one hand over Lucifer’s hip and guides himself in with the other. Lucifer’s body undulates beneath him as he pushes forward. It’s so fucking hot, and he’s warm and tight; Dan’s amazed he hasn’t come already.

He leans forward, cupping the side of Lucifer’s face with one hand, and kisses him again as he buries deep inside him. It’s at that moment, that he opens his heart and begins to pray.

Lucifer arches his back, screwing his eyes shut and tearing his mouth away, exposing his throat with a moan. Dan’s name drips from his lips, drawn out and blissful. He begins to rock his hips forward, seeking rhythm and closeness.

Dan moves with him, riding a fine line between visceral pleasure and spiritual harmony. His muscles are tensed in this position, and he’s starting to feel a burn, because this is real. Lucifer is here, they’re together, their link stronger now than ever.

He swears he can sense an invisible network of—of energy, of light, woven between them. It’s like he can register what it actually feels like to be aware of his own soul. And fuck if it’s not the most incredible feeling, especially being able to share it. It’s so much to take in. It’s almost too much.

Sweat beads on Dan’s back, his body starts to shake. He drives into Lucifer, enveloped in his arms and drunk on the sounds of encouraging moans and gasps.

Lucifer twists and pants, looking flush and resplendent in the moonlight. He smiles at up at Dan and one of his hands pulls his face down so they can kiss again. He holds their bodies tightly together, seeking as much contact as possible.

A thick wave of emotion suddenly courses through Dan’s mind and body. Through his exertion, he recognizes that Lucifer is communicating with him. The brilliant, blinding force of energy that makes up the core of Lucifer’s being envelopes him in radiance. It almost feels like when he blesses him, but it’s different somehow. It’s more—conscious—and the certainty/connection feeling that Dan has grown to associate with their link tips over into full clarity. He finally understands.

It’s unity.

~*~

Chloe makes it down to the parking garage and strolls to her car at a slow pace. She worries a little that she might have made things awkward tonight on her way out. She wants—needs—to talk to Lucifer about so many things. Dan, too, for that matter. There is a lot to figure out. She’s hopeful. It’s all that’s keeping her going.

When she approaches her car, she stops, keys in hand, and calls her mother to check in. Trixie’s still up, even though it’s a school night. Chloe has no problem letting it slide this time, it’s been one Hell of weekend for everyone.

She tells her mother that she’s on her way. Her mother tries to fish for a little more information on what happened, but Chloe’s so damn tired, the last thing she wants to do is get locked into conversation. After about five minutes, Decker ends up having to be a bit curt over the phone, but her mother doesn’t seem to mind and takes the hint.

The detective gets into her car and tilts her head back on the headrest with a sigh. She does a habitual self-check and suddenly realizes that she left her jacket in the penthouse. With a groan, she gets out of the car and heads back to the elevator.

A quick glance at her watch tells her it’s seven minutes since she left. They’re probably getting settled for bed. Maybe. Even before she thinks she made things weird, they seemed a little strange towards each other. Not how she expected them to be. They _were_ making bedroom eyes at each other, whether they knew it or not is anyone’s guess, but they didn’t touch each other once while she was there.

Maybe they’re afraid to be affectionate around her.

The thought makes her disheartened.

Regardless of the issues she and Dan have had, or the ones between her and Lucifer, she still cares about their happiness. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen between all of them. She doesn’t want to stomp all over what they have.

But she just…doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

The elevator _dings_ and she steps into a darkened space. They must have gone straight to sleep. Not really surprising, considering everything that’s happened.

Chloe treads quietly towards the bar when she stops dead in her tracks at the sound of a soft, high gasp from outside.

She turns carefully and her eyes widen.

Dan and Lucifer are on the balcony—literally _on_ it, on the deck. Completely naked and…

“Oh…”

Her initial response is surprise. _That was quick_.

The following response is curiosity. _I’ve never actually seen this before in person._

On light feet, she takes a few steps closer, moving towards the center of the room.

Dan’s rutting into Lucifer, who is shamelessly showing off his enthusiasm beneath him. Their bodies are bathed in moonlight, their skin glistening with sweat. As pornographic as they look, at the same time they also look…beautiful.

She starts to notice things: Lucifer being on the bottom, for one (she didn’t expect that). The way he looks into Dan’s eyes. The way Dan seems so focused on him. The way their bodies press together with familiarity. The way they’re smiling at each other. The almost _glowing_ vibe they seem to be giving off. It’s gotta be the moonlight.

The longer Chloe watches them, the more she sees who they’ve become to each other, and what that means.

They’re in love.

Chloe takes a step back and bumps her ass into the piano.

Lucifer turns his head to the side, Dan follows his gaze.

Everyone’s eyes widen.

No one moves.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ya just *LOVE* that sweet, sweet cliffhanger torture?
> 
> Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> SEQUEL STARTS SOMETIME NEXT WEEK.
> 
> I cannot believe the outpour of support for this story. I cannot thank you all enough for everything you've said. You folks are why I keep doing this. Thank you <3.


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